Harry Potter, Guard of Satan: The Philosopher's Stone
by Flying Boat Boy
Summary: Harry Potter takes his life at the age of eight, leaving behind a whirlwind of events that will reshape the wizarding world. As they come to terms with the sudden death of their hero, Harry's soul comes into contact with someone many would rather avoid. Someone who might finally give him the purpose he always wanted.
1. Chapter 1

**I would like to thank Nega Mewtwo and their story inspiring me to continue writing**

 **I don't own any of the characters. All Harry Potter and Zoophobia characters belong to J.K Rowling and Vivienne Madrano respectively.**

Chapter 1: The Death of Harry Potter

Rain pelted the aging roof of the schoolhouse, yet it held firm, sheltering the countless individuals that occupied its chipped walls. Despite the rather turbulent nature outside, the innards were as filled with just as much life inside, as if the weather outside was of no concern to any of them. Children played with the various board games set by the allocated teachers and said teachers were either watching over the children or stared blissfully outside as the rain droplets cascaded across the asphalt of the schoolyard.

To any random person driving by, they would merely shrug this off as a common occurrence in an everyday British village. Yet as all the vehicles passed the boundaries of the school, carrying their occupants with them, not a single person noticed the shrivelled figure left out in the rain.

Harry Potter, aged eight, was an individual of very little interest. Dressed in large rags that made him akin to a deflating elephant and sporting ridiculously round glasses over his emerald green eyes, many people mistakenly believed him to be the local hobo or something. Not until they looked closer, and found him to be much younger than they initially thought.

Of course, they only noticed for a short while. After that, it was back to business as usual.

So here was Harry Potter, sitting on his haunches, weeping softly to himself as he nursed the swollen areas on his arms, where not many moments ago Dudley's fist and feet found its mark. While odd, the young boy found a slight sense of comfort, sandwiched between the two dumpsters directly outside the staff entrance to the canteen. It is a place he had grown most familiar to, providing safe refuge from his cousin Dudley and his gang of thugs when they would comb the halls of the school looking for victims. Their favourite target was, of course, Harry; whom they knew couldn't fight back even if he wanted to. Teachers surprisingly never took any notice of these strange games of cat-and-mouse, merely passing them off as a friendly game of Tag.

But Harry learned the hard way that it was no such game, and in situations like that, the only thing he could do, was run, He may not have been the strongest nor the biggest, but he sure could run fast when he really wanted to. Sadly he couldn't always get away every time, and whenever Dudley's gang caught up with him, they would always give him a few extras beatings for all the trouble he'd put them through.

Such was the case today, where after a particularly long chase, Harry found himself cornered at his little safe haven and beaten to kingdom come. Luckily for him, the group of bullies left early due to the rain. Unlucky for him, however, the rain also meant that he was left a broken mess in the middle of the storm, surrounded by trash.

Harry flinched slightly as he slowly felt each individual bruise that pockmarked over his skin, like craters he'd seen on the moon. Each time his skinny fingers wavered over the marks, he would hiss slightly to himself as the pain coursed through his body.

Never before had he ever felt so miserable. All through his life, through all the beatings and the insults that his "family" threw at him, Harry felt like he could take it all, holding onto the hope that one day something good would finally happen. After all, wouldn't he finally get rewarded for taking all of it? Surely he had to be related to somebody else out there other than the Dursleys. After all, he'd seen more than just uncles, aunts and cousins. What about Grandparents? Godfathers and Godmothers? Heck, even step-parents? Why is there no one else?

Yet Harry held firm to his belief, that maybe someone, anyone, anybody would finally rescue him from the hell he called 'home'. In school, sure he was ignored, but he still existed. The teachers at least remembered who he was and while the other kids avoided him like the plague, the fact that they choose to stay away reaffirmed in his heart that he still had some importance in the world.

But now that concept was shattered right in front of him, and as he laid sat there, alone, bruised, and mentally scarred, he finally realized just how insignificant he truly was.

The emotional pain stung at his heart as Harry was quickly overcome by the futilities of his actions. Eight years of his life were, in his eyes, wasted for no reason. Contemplating, he thought to himself.

'Is there any reason to keep going?'

'Any reason to take last another eight years?'

'Any point in all of it?'

No...No was the resounding answer for all of them. In that brief moment, he contemplated suicide.

Harry's heart froze for a moment. Suicide? Really? Sure life was tough but was that any excuse for taking the easy way out?

No. He was wrong on that and he knew it. At this point, suicide was the ONLY choice left for him. It was either that or continue his miserable existence.

His heart set in stone, Harry pulled himself off the ground and into the full barrage of the storm raging above. Fine, suicide it was, but how could he do it? The kitchen? Not possible. His horse-faced aunt would always be there and the mere presence of him alone in the kitchen would trip her suspicions, alerting the other two of his whereabouts and his actions. He needed a place where he could do it without being intervened.

How about the park? It's small, and there is a beam in which he could hang himself. He just needed ropes...and god knows where he could even find that.

Harry narrowed his eyes as his thoughts delved deeper and deeper into the dark zone.

'Why would I ever want to die alone?' Harry thought to himself 'If I'm going out, I should at least make a big splash out of it. Uncle Vernon always said I was a good-for-nothing showoff. Maybe its time I proved him right' His eyes trailed over to the roof of the building. He smiled to himself as remembered the last time he got stuck up there when fleeing from Dudley.

Perfect. Now, where was the ladder?

Walking along the roof, Harry felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. As if a great burden was finally freeing itself from him. The feeling of fear that he felt before quickly evaporated, along with the intensity of the rain, as he pictured the horrified faces of the other students when they're going to find him.

"Now that I'm up here, doesn't look as bad as before" He vaguely remembered the last time that he was up here. He'd been cornered by Dudley's gang after an intense ten-minute "game", his back behind a brick wall as they circled around him like hungry jackals. Fearing the coming pain so much, Harry closed his eyes and wished that he was somewhere else. He'd been pleasantly surprised when he opened them again to find himself on top of the school roof, far away from Dudley and his gang.

The school administrator, of course, wasn't too happy with this, and neither was his uncle when he found out. Harry could still remember how purple his uncle's face had been when he'd return home. Dudley clung at his side, bawling his eyes out and complaining about how the "freak" got away from him, causing him to hurt his hand punching the wall. Harry didn't even get time to explain anything. His uncle just yelled at him to keep his "freakiness" in check and then threw him in his cupboard without any dinner.

He was nearly there now. And as he got closer and closer to the edge of the roof, the rain slowed into a drizzle, until finally, it stopped altogether, leaving behind a screen of sunlight that broke through the clouds and warmed Harry to the bones. Below him, he could see the other children scurry out of the building, like little ants descending from a hole in the ground.

Harry took one last look at the horizon around him. From such a vantage point, the view was truly breathtaking, making him slightly sad that he wasn't able to enjoy more moments like this is his life.

He closed his eyes. Spread his arms. Then with one last sigh, Harry Potter threw himself off the edge of the building. A rush of wind there. A distant scream. Then finally the cold feeling of death washed over him.

2 Days Later.

Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office, shuffling through paperwork as his latest failure plagued his mind. Once again, he was unable to secure Black a trial, something he had constantly pressured Minister Fudge with. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Albus felt something was off. Black's character had been too radical, too different from the cheeky boy that he remembered when he had once occupied the halls of Hogwarts. The old man just couldn't believe that Black was willing to betray his friend like that, not when he had followed him thick and through everything.

Alas, many in the Wizengamot held firm belief that Black was guilty, something that even Dumbledore's position as Chief Warlock was unable to sway. The evidence had just been too conclusive, and Black's actions had been so expected of someone fleeing that you'll be a fool to think otherwise.

Dumbledore sighed to himself as he pushed those thoughts from his mind. Thinking about Black had put his mind onto other problems, mainly the ones involving the orphan of James and Lily Potter. He hated it, he truly did.

But leaving Harry with those muggles was the only way that the young child could be safe. Horrible they may be, but Dumbledore had complete faith that the boy could handle the lifestyle. Who knows? Its been a long time since he'd last seen the boy, what with the stress of helping fix the wizarding world. Perhaps those muggles may have gotten used to him and accepted Harry as one of their own. An old man could hope, couldn't he?

A light tapping noise drew Dumbledore's attention away from the mountain of paperwork stacked on his desk and to one of the mosaic windows in his office. His pet phoenix, Fawkes (bless his little soul) flew over to it and lifted the latch, allowing a dull auburn barn owl inside.

Now, this was something he hadn't seen in a while. It had been eight years since he'd last seen this particular owl. If his memory still served him, this particular owl should have been in the possession of Arabella Figgs, a spy of Dumbledore's who should have only used this owl in case of emergencies.

His eyes trailed over to the items attached to the legs of the owls. On one leg was a large bundle of paper, indicating that it was a newspaper. The other was a thin square that indicated that it was a letter. With worry in his mind, Dumbledore shakily removed the two items from the owl. Opening the letter slowly first, Dumbledore slipped out the thin piece of parchment and slowly began to read.

Seeing that its package was delivered, the owl flew out of the window, uninterested in whatever the human had received. Had it stayed there, it would have been one of two (alive) witnesses to ever see the aging wizard visibly stump.

Albus Dumbledore steadied himself with the edge of his table, his panic quickly infesting the rest of the room as the various portraits of headmasters and headmistresses began questioning him. Their concerns only amplifying as he remained silent to all of them. Mutters began to spread as the various headmasters and headmistresses began waking up other portraits and informing them of the situation.

Albus Dumbledore quickly unravelled the large bundle of paper, revealing it to be an ordinary muggle's newspaper. He stood there for a moment, his head stuck into the print and thus preventing any of the other portraits from peeking over and seeing what he was reading.

Finally, Dumbledore pulled back, the paper falling from his hands as he used them both to lean onto the edge of the desk for support. The now numerous portraits all jousted one another as they struggled to fit into the frames closest to the now discarded paper on the floor. The lucky ones, much to the chagrin of the others, all stared at the emboldened black letter that took up a majority of the front page.

 **TRAGEDY STRIKES THE SUBURBAN TOWN OF LITTLE WHINGING**

 _Little Whinging, a town populated by the blue-collared workers of the Surrey County, usually follows a daily routine, not unlike many of the proud towns aligned to the Crown. Yet as many workers of Little Whinging returned to their homes, their days wracked with intense labour necessary for the prosperity of our nation, many were horrified at the tragedy that took place at the local primary school._

 _St Grogory's Primary School, an institute fostering the bright minds of our future, became a scene of horror as one of its students reportedly threw themselves off the roof of the school in an act of suicide. The victim, identified as one Harry Potter, eight-years-old, was proclaimed dead on the spot due to major trauma to the brain and spine._

 _Prior to the incident, a large storm rolled through the school, forcing many of its teachers to herd the students into the main admission building for safety. Many teachers claim to have accounted for everyone, yet it seems that the suicide victim, Harry Potter, was actually locked outside unintentionally, forced to brave the howling winds and sudden downpour all by himself. Following the hail of rain, students left the building to enjoy their remaining five minutes of lunch, only to be shocked at the body of Harry Potter slamming into the asphalt next to them._

 _Many students confirmed without a doubt that it was an act of intention, as many of them reported seeing a figure deliberately jump off the edge. The body of the unfortunate incident was retrieved thirty minutes later when paramedics and police arrived on the campus._

 _The victim under coverage remains a paradox. Many teachers confess that he was an individual of little importance in many of their eyes. The boy was quiet, respectful, and polite when speaking to many of them. Students also professed that he was a rather dull figure, always staying out of the limelight and keeping to himself on many occasions. Neighbours in the surrounding areas stated that many of them saw the boy, but never really interacted with him as they always saw him working the garden beds of number four Privet Drive._

 _Yet these accounts contradict heavily with the testaments provided by the victim's family and the school's Headmistress. Vernon Dursley, Director of the local Grunnings branch and uncle to the now deceased child, gave startling accounts of Harry Potter as being a "good-for-nothing vagrant" who preyed on the innocent children of the local area._

 _"The boy was a thug and a good-for-nothing vagrant" stated Dursley in a later press interview, "Much like his father I might add, the boy would have turned out to a criminal, and nothing more"_

 _Headmistress Roemmele further reinforced these claims, later informing the press of the boy's constant record of getting into trouble with other students and climbing buildings._

 _Rumours surrounding Harry Potter, remain inconclusive in building a portfolio of the victim. Autopsy reports later flooded this case, informing us of the victim's extremely interesting health at the time of his death. Many reports claimed and have been confirmed, that the boy was suffering from severe malnutrition, with his weight being at least 15 kilos less than an average eight-year-olds. Worst was the x-rays, indicating clear signs of bruises and scarring dating back at least three years ago. Many of these bruises remained unhealed, with many of them being clear signs of extreme force being applied. Other scars included 2 cracked ribs healed incorrectly, three shattered fingers, small signs of internal bleeding and second-degree burns located on the victims back and hands._

 _When asked about the circumstances leading up to Harry Potter's current health, Vernon Dursley refused to provide any more details._

 _Little Whinging continues in reeling to shock at the tragedy, with many of its residents hoping to forget and move on. But we at this small media company are certain that this case will go beyond that. Police teams have begun to raid the Dursley's Residence, unearthing some signs that Harry Potter may have been a victim of torture and child abuse. Rest assured. This media will continue to cover the story as it progresses._

There was a stunned silence in the air as the knowledge sunk into the minds of many of the headmasters and headmistresses. Then all at once, there was a cascade of noise as many of the portraits broke into tears over the horrible news. It soon spread and alas there was a great ecstasy of sombreness that clouded the room.

Albus Dumbledore stood there in silence, the sound of his ever increasing heartbeat hammering against the walls of his ears.

Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. Was now dead. And it is all his fault.

How. How could he have been so blind to the reality? He'd believed that he had protected the boy all along yet all he'd done was further accelerate his death.

He'd been a fool. A fool to believe that a prejudiced family like the Dursley's would ever set aside their hate for the sake of family. He should have heeded Figg's words and taken Harry out as soon as he could've.

But no. He'd been a stubborn fool. So used to things working out that he neglected the wellbeing of an orphaned child and left him to the abusive hands of his family.

Dumbledore's hands clenched in rage. How could he forget that he was once like that? Neglecting his own sister in the pursuit of his own glory. His arrogance had been his greatest mistake. Now history was repeating itself again.

He didn't know how long he sat there. On the floor, basking in his own failure. Or rather he didn't care to bother count.

The only thing that broke him out of his stupor was the sound of his office doors opening, along with the grieving faces of Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, Filius Flitwick, Rubeus Hagrid and most surprising of all, Severus Snape who had a few tears trailing from his eyes despite the severe poker face that he struggled to keep on.

With trembling hands, McGonagall held out the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. Dumbledore, his heart already dampened once, couldn't even find the energy to read out the title that plastered over the pages. Yet, with great conviction, he did.

 **THE DEATH OF HARRY POTTER: THE SAVIOUR THAT BECAME A VICTIM OF MUGGLE ABUSE**

 **Author Notes: I'm making changes to the canon timeline. At this point in the story, the year is 2008, meaning Harry will begin his Hogwarts Year in 2011 and finishing it in 2017. This is so I can add modern technological refernces.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter nor Zoophobia. They are the rightful property of J.K Rowling and Vivienne Madrano respectively.**

Chapter 2: Hagrid's Regret

Tom sighed to himself softly as he walked along the streets of Diagon Alley, feeling miserable, as did the tens or so witches and wizards that stood at the various open shops. Many of them held expressions of grief and sorrow, something that Tom couldn't blame them for. After all, it is hard to believe that a child as young as eight would be capable and willing to take his own life.

Tom remembered that moment, viscerally. The moment he found out that Harry Potter was dead. Tom had been in the middle of a lunch-hour rush, serving as many as fifteen witches and wizards cramped in his humble inn. Many of them were just about finished, preparing to head back to work before they were stopped by the sudden appearance of panting wizard at the front door. In his hands, was a crinkled muggle newspaper, something that intrigued many spectators, who've never seen one in their lives.

But their time for intrigue was quickly snuffled away as the wizard grabbed a stool and pulled himself up above the gathering crowd, announcing to the entire bar, with the newspaper's front page in his hand, that Harry Potter was dead.

The silence was deafening, with the only sound being the shattering from the glass that a witch with blonde hair dropped. Then the pandemonium started.

The wizard on the stool was swamped with questions, his muggle newspaper faring no different, as various witches and wizards tore at it to have a better read of the front cover. Tom only stared on horror from behind his counter as the building erupted into chaos, many people panicking with some even bursting into tears as they feared the imminent arrival of dark forces.

It took a few flare spells and a loud firecracker sound from the wand of a wizard, that the inn was able to settle back into control. The wizard who fired the spells proclaimed that he was an off-duty reporter for the Daily Prophet but would be glad to take a few statements from the wizard with the newspaper. He was even nice enough to let the surrounding people sit around them, listening if they wanted, something that Tom was extremely grateful for.

The chaotic atmosphere dialled down to a tense one as witches and wizards pulled together the bar stools and formed a circle around the reporter and the interviewee. Tom gladly stayed at the back, content to merely listen. How he would later regret that decision.

As the wizard read out loud from the muggle paper and the reporter wrote it all down, the atmosphere quickly turned more and more sour, with maybe one or two wizards actually fainting. Tom was no better-feeling extremely sick to the stomach as he took in all the information.

Harry Potter. Aged eight. Took his own life after failing to cope with an abusive household.

The crowd was stunned. But one bit of information stuck to many of them - his age.

The fact that a child a young as he was could be capable of such an act terrified many of the onlookers, especially those that had children his age. As a result, many of them left in a hurry, not paying for any of their meals. Tom didn't mind. They had their own children to check on and after what he heard, he couldn't bring himself to charge any of them.

The room emptied itself quickly after that. The wizard with the paper and the reporter walked out the door together while other witches and wizards humbly asked Tom if they could use the Floo Network connected to his fireplace to get home. Tom bid them all farewell, and as the last tenants left the building, he pulled out a large bottle of Ogden's Extra-Strong Old Firewhiskey for himself.

Now recovering from a massive hangover, Tom went over to the local apothecary for a Thought-Clearing Potion, only to be disappointed to find that the owner had run out. Quite a few wizards and witches overindulged last night. Leaving the shop with a heavy heart, he walked along its cobblestone roads, observing the changes taking place around him.

The alley, so usually packed with bright lights and customers, now held a dreary gloom as the streets were almost deserted.

'Many people are too busy mourning at home' Tom thought to himself sadly as he noticed one of the posters plastered on the walls and windows of the Alley.

'Pray for Potter' read the signs. They were neither too fancy nor too drab. Warm orange colours with fonts written in emerald green reminiscent of words etched on tombstones. Underneath the posters were candles and flowers. A small tribute to a child who had done so much for their world, but was taken from it too quickly. Tom himself left a mug with yellow daisies under one of these posters. His small gift and prayers to a child.

The surrounding business themselves took a big hit from Harry's death. Flourish and Blotts had closed their shop for the week, along with the owl emporium, Malkin's shop, and numerous others. Grieving they were. The only ones that remained open were the bank, the apothecary and a few of the second-hand stores.

What had been a big change, however, was the massive surge in muggle newspapers. Many witches and wizards have taken to reading from the muggle papers instead for their news, mainly because the Daily Prophet lacked the connections needed to gain information on the death of Potter. Witches and wizards were bewildered by the immobile pictures of the muggle papers, though that quickly changed as they read on and ignored all the other finer details. At this rate the Prophet was in danger of being beaten in sales by a Muggle paper, something Tom was sure the head honchos were currently grinding their teeth at.

Two witches were chittering away at something, piquing Tom's interest when he noticed the muggle paper that the two were sharing.

"Oh my, how horrendous," said one witch as she pointed to a section in the paper to her friend, "Listen, _Police now find evidence that the deceased subject had been currently living in the house's cupboard underneath the main staircase. This room had a size, not even an average man could fit in, yet, it seems that the child was forced to live in it, along with a dangerous nest of spiders tucked in the corner. A combination lock was also discovered in the trash can outside, with the dent marks on it matching the dent marks on the doors of the cupboard. This, as police stated: "Is clear evidence that the suspect, one Vernon Dursley, had attempted to hide the fact that he'd lock the boy in what was essentially a cage in his own home._

"Oh Merlin, those damn Muggles! How dare they do that to a child!" Her friend spat in rage as the witch patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Oh, it gets worst. Here - _"Vernon Dursley has, so far, refused to divulge any more information to the press. Going off his previous statement, Dursley quoted: "I thought the child didn't need a bigger room. He's only eight for god-sake. A bigger room would only pamper him". Ironic to his statement, however, is the case of his son Dudley Dursley, also eight, who weighed at least four times more than the deceased victim and occupied two of the four bedrooms in the house. His son had used one room for residency and the other for "storage", which turned out to be his enormous collection of toys. When asked about this loophole, Dursley refused any more interviews and slammed his door, calling everyone in the vicinity: "A bunch of good-for-nothings-"_

Tom couldn't bear to hear any more. He turned away from the two witches' conversation and walked back into the Leaky Cauldron, feeling extremely sick to the stomach.

The Leaky Cauldron was its usual self, homey and warm. Though today a lot of customers weren't here, Tom felt his spirit lift slightly as he saw his best customer sitting at the bar.

"Tom" the large figure nodded towards him.

"Rubeus Hagrid" replied Tom. He walked around the counter and behind it until he was face to face with Hagrid. "What will it be today?"

"S'thing strong an' weet will do," Tom noticed, despite the massive amount of hair on his face, that the overly large man had puffy eyes and a slight sniffle in his speech. Pushing the mug of Firewhiskey to him, Hagrid picked it up and drained the entire contents in one gulp. He then held out the empty mug to Tom and pointed to the recently opened bottle in his hand.

"Nother one, please" Tom instead slid the entire bottle over, something that Hagrid picked up and held close to him as if he was holding a baby.

"Tough times, eh?"

"Ya wouldn't believe it Tom" Hagrid took a large swig from the bottle before settling it down. "Hogwarts in a'n uproar. Parents freaking out. The little kiddies bawling th'eir eyes"

"Same here" replied Tom sadly as he indicated to the rest of the empty room. "Feels like the world has stopped moving"

"I just...can't believe he's gone. Ya know? Can't believe that he'd go out like that so soon"

"Me neither" agreed Tom sadly. "Had a read of one of them muggle papers. Apart from the lack of moving pictures, they don't seem so bad"

"Yeh-I have'd a readin meself. Got to wonder why the Prophet ain't talking about it as much"

"From what I've heard, they ain't go no contacts in the muggle world" He leaned into Hagrid and lowered his voice, "Seems its hard to write something new when the muggle papers are releasing information you didn't even get. Prophet's apparently trying to pass off the muggle works as their own"

"Alas it is true Gentlemen" Tom and Hagrid turned their attention to a new figure who just entered the doors of the quaint inn. The man in question wore a purple robe embroidered in blue trimmings. He also wore a large purple, pointed hat that failed in covering his long straw yellow hair.

"Who 're you?" asked Hagrid. The man in question gave a long exaggerated bow.

"Andy Smuldgley. Reporter for the Daily Prophet"

Tom jogged his memory for a moment before a certain one came up in his mind. "You're that reporter that spread the word around didn't you?"

"Yes..." he smiled sadly before looking up to Tom, "Yes I did"

"You just here to collect more juicy stories Smuldgley?" The young wizard laughed slightly before shaking his head.

"Nah- I'm off duty today"

"Didn't stop you before..."

"True- but that time was an emergency. I'm just here for a drink and some pleasant company. Merlin's beard Tom, you know how hard that is to come by these days" Smuldgley drew up a stool next to Hagrid and accepted the mug of Firewhiskey that Tom poured him. His eyebrows raised slightly as he took in the large form of Hagrid. "And you are?"

"Rubeus Hagrid"

"Pleasure" The two men shook hands before the three of them settled into their drinks. "I heard the two speak about my delightful employer, care to share a secret?"

"Nothin much" shrugged Hagrid as he took another sip of his alcohol, "Just talkin 'bout how you've got nothing to publish while them muggle papers keep pushing things out"

"Sadly that is out of our control. We've got very little established units in the muggle's world, so - news is hard to come by"

"Funny - and here I thought, ya knew everythin', sure as hell acted like it sometimes"

Smuldgley looked unsurprised for a moment, and when he spoke again, it was in a tone that was two parts mocking and daring. "My pardon, but based on the tone of your voice and the movement of your body, you act as if you know more than me"

"Course I do" growled Hagrid back. Tom gulped slightly as he remembered the dangerous combination of a grieving Hagrid and a bottle of alcohol, such cases never ended well. "I 'now more than ya think"

"Really?" Tom looked at the reporter fearfully as he pulled out a few rolls of parchment and a quill. "Please do tell then"

Hagrid seized up for a moment, making his whole body look even bigger than it usually does. Tom could tell that Hagrid at this point was extremely furious, even more so when he's hopped up on alcohol. The reporter surprisingly didn't break face, and Tom didn't know whether that was because he was frozen in fear or he'd seen this case many times. What happened next, however, equally shocked both Tom and Smuldgley, as Hagrid fell to his knees and started crying.

"Its all ma fault!" The massive half-giant's tears came out so profusely and large that even the normally cool-headed Smuldgley was slightly taken aback. Tom went around from behind his counter and with a great heave, he helped the massive man back into his seat.

"Thank you, Tom, ya a right lad sometimes" Hagrid took another swig at his Firewiskey before turning back to Smuldgley who now had curiosity in his eyes.

"What do you mean by, Its all your fault?"

"What do you expect it to mean?! Its all ma fault" Hagrid clapped his chest a few times, making a large thumping sound each time his massive fist made an impact with it, "I was the one to deliver lil Harry to those damn'ed muggles"

"Wait!" Smuldgley's eyes widened in shock, as did Tom who himself didn't know this detail. "You were there when You-Know-Who attacked the Potter residence?"

Hagrid shook his head sadly as he tipped over slightly, sloshing some of his alcohol on his front. "Nah, I was there afterward. Though if I had the chance, I'd givin me own life to buy them time. Dumbledore ordered me there that night to find what I could. I found the poor boy in the smothering ruins of his own house. Just a wee baby back then"

Hagrid held his arms out as if to exaggerate the motions of carrying a child. "Do know what it like? To hold a wee baby in your arms while his parents' bodies lay just a few feet away"

A few more tears fell from his face as he continued. Tom himself also felt a little something from the corner of his eyes. "He looked so innocent then. All wrapped in his little blanket, so...un'ware of everything, so untainted apart from that scar on his fore-"

"What happened then?" pressed Smuldgley. Hagrid steadied himself for a bit, making great sucking noises as he controlled his sniffle.

"Black came." Smuldgley was really excited now, visibly shaking in his seat. The fact that the man that stood before him met Black on the night of the Potter's murder was clearly a story worthy of attention. "The bastard came on his enchanted bike. He...looked distraught. Asked what happened, and I told him. Then he told me to hand Harry over"

"He did?"

"Yeah, he did. But I told him no, Dumbledore's orders. He argued, and I argued back. Back and forth until he gave up. He sort of deflated after that. Gave up his favourite bike so I could get to Dumbledore"

"Hagrid, you do realize that he could have led you into a trap with the bike"

"Of course I did. T'was quite suspiciously that he gave me his bike. But I shrugged it off, still thought he was on our side. But anyway I thanked him, and drove off into the night with the boy"

"Took him to Dumbledore. Was in a muggle area. Was took ter hand him over and that was it"

"Didn't you ever stop and ask why Dumbledore left the boy there?"

"Course I did. But all he said was: 'This was the only way'. Didn't question, thought the man knew what he was doing"

Hagrid looked away sadly before breaking down into even more tears. Tom rounded from his counter and walked up to the massive man, patting his elbow since he couldn't reach his shoulder. Looking over to Smuldgley, he was genuinely surprised to see him sigh and put away his parchment of paper.

"There, there Rubeus" He patted the half-giant's other shoulder sympathetically before turning to Tom. "Let's get a few more bottles out Tom"

"I...I...I just can't believe he's gone. Ya know? Can't believe that the wee baby ima arms that night was the last time I see 'im"

Smuldgley accepted the extra bottles that Tom handed out, cracking a few of them open with his wand. "My only concern is why Dumbledore left him with those muggles in the first place. I mean, why not put the child up to adoption or something. Should have been plenty of wizarding families that might have taken him in with open arms"

"That something that I've questioned too often reporter" replied Tom, leaning onto the edge of the counter with one of the bottles in his hand, "Though maybe Dumbledore had no idea that those muggles were this terrible"

"Highly doubt that Tom" sniffed Hagrid into his drink. The two men looked to him in surprise. "When I got there with little Harry, Dumbledore was with McGonagall. Seems she was sent in advance to check the family. Didn't hear mush meself but- what little I heard twas nothin good"

There was nothing much left to speak about now. Hagrid, by this point, was so incoherent with alcohol that both men knew that they weren't going to get much more out of him. All that was left, was them and their thoughts. Tom felt disturbed by these revelations, his mind swirling as he considered the option that the world's most powerful wizard may have actually created the biggest mistake on the century. Looking over to Smuldgley, he saw that he too had the same expression, though he looked more like he was in deeper thought that Tom.

True Smuldgley was in deep thoughts, but for an entirely different reason. Inside his head, a battle was raging, one between his moral conscious and his ambitious conscious. On one side he felt he shouldn't spill everything to the Daily Prophet, the wizarding world was already tense enough and any more evidence of Dumbledore's role in the boy's death could lead to the man's eviction from every major branch of power he held. Not exactly the best thing to do when your entire society is grieving and is on full panic mode.

On the other hand, the Prophet was desperate for some fresh news. The entire company was getting swamped by an influx in muggle newspapers, something that might impact his job. Also...the rent for his apartment was increasing next week.

'What a headache' he thought to himself bitterly. Does he do the right thing for someone else, or the right thing for himself? Looking over to the distraught Hagrid and Tom, Smuldgley couldn't help but feel slight sympathy for the man. This was a man who, after all, was one of the last few people from the wizarding world to ever see the boy. The fact that the boy died so young must have greatly impacted him, badly.

'This had better be worth it' Smuldgley made a mental note to burn the piece of parchment in his satchel later. Grabbing one of the last unemptied bottles of Firewhiskey, he tapped his wand against the side of the glass bottle, making a little chinking sound that drew the attention of Tom and the still inebriated Hagrid.

"A toast-" said Smuldgley as he lifted his bottle up above his head. Looking confused for a moment, Tom eventually lifted his bottle too, along with Hagrid albeit with a slight unsteadiness in his hand. "To the Boy-Who-Lived. To a child who's done so much, for so little. We will remember you. Always. Harry Potter"

"To Harry Potter"

"Arry Posher!"

With a small clinking sound as their bottles made contact, the three men downed all of the contents of it. Though as Tom pulled more bottles from out underneath, and as more people arrived, their little ceremony quickly spiralled into an all-night party that only stopped when Aurors were called in to deal with the ever-increasing noise.

 **Author Notes: So yeah we saw a little bit of the impact that Harry's death has had on society so far. In the next one, we'll focus on the politics and how Dumbledore and the Ministry are dealing with the current situation. Thank you so much for the inspiring comments, really thought this was going to be a small project.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter and Zoophobia canon. They are the rightful property of J.K Rowling and Vivienne Madrano respectively.**

Chapter 3: A Game of Politics

Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office, surrounded by his contraptions, books and his pet phoenix Fawkes. The nearby portraits of headmasters and headmistresses of old sat in their frames, snoozing softly as he stared into the fireplace that crackled in front of him. As he did this, he played with the wand in his hand, feeling the soft wood on his fingers as he waited for his esteemed guest.

Sure enough, the orange tinge of the fire erupted into emerald green and a figure stepped out of the flames. As he left it, the fire quickly reverted back to its original orange glow.

"Evening Cornelius"

"Evening Albus. Is this a bad time?"

"No, no… the children are all tucked in bed so now should be fine" replied Dumbledore

The portly little man dusted his pinstriped robes and took off his lime green bowler hat, twirling it in his hand as he walked over to shake Dumbledore's hand. As he did, Dumbledore noticed the fatigue in his eyes.

"Can I offer you any refreshments?" Dumbledore waved his hand over to a nearby table that hosted a tray containing a blue teapot, some teacups and a plate of crumpets. Cornelius Fudge's eyes lit up slightly as he pushed a chair backwards and sat into it.

"That would be a welcome treat. One sugar however and no milk"

With a wave of his wand, the teapot levitated itself and poured out a generous helping of hot tea into an unoccupied cup. The same time, the sugar bowl opened and a spoon of white sugar was poured in. The spoon stirred the tea itself before the steaming cup was levitated over to the Minister for Magic and into his open hands.

"Now," said Dumbledore as he tucked his wand into the innards of his robes. Fudge took a sip of his tea, shuddering slightly as the warmth coursed through his body, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Cornelius? I got your owl just this morning"

"Yes, onto business" He drained the rest of his cup before setting it on Dumbledore's table, "But before that, I have to ask, how are the children reacting to the boy's death?"

"Ah...yes. That..." Dumbledore said sadly, "Its as bad as you would expect it to be. Most of the children here grew up with stories of the boy and how he was such a hero. The fact that he died so young has left many of the students here shaken. Hasn't stopped lessons, however"

"I wish I could say the same thing about the Ministry, Albus" replied Fudge with a groan. He rubbed his temple as the teapot refilled his cup, "Half my staff hasn't shown up for the last few days because they were with their families. At this rate, nothing is getting done properly"

"I'm sorry to hear that Cornelius"

"Don't be- least you can do is hear my problems" taking another sip from his cup, "I have problems Albus, problems that keep piling up ever since that boy's death"

"I...see. May I ask what these problems may be?"

"Hang on, I got them right here" Fudge reached into a black, leather suitcase that Dumbledore hadn't noticed he brought in with him. Fishing around its contents, he eventually withdrew a stack of papers, each of them stamped with the Ministry of Magic's Seal in the right-hand corner. Passing them over to Dumbledore, who took them with shaking hands, he skimmed over the contents on the pages. As he read each of them, his eyes widened slightly in surprise before speaking in a low voice.

"Oh my..."

"Yeah it's not good is it?" said Fudge as he chewed on one of the crumpets from the plate, "Last few days have seen a surge in muggle attacks, most of them done by regular folk, none of that dark wizard business"

Brushing the crumbs from his fingers, Fudge leaned forward and spoke with an ominous tone, "People are a calling for blood Albus. They want revenge for the boy, and its hard to stop them when a majority of my staff are in full favour of it"

"I...I had no idea...that it was this serious" said Dumbledore, skimming down near the end he saw a few similarities among the attack cases, "I notice that most of these muggles seem to be related to Vernon Dursley in some way. Secretaries, workers, even Dursley himself was attacked three times"

"What disturbs me however is the response time, Aurors and Obliviators didn't arrive until an hour after the report was put forward" continued Dumbledore.

"Yeah...about that" Fudge chuckled nervously as he scratched the side of his cheek, "I've got problems finding any Aurors willing to go help those muggles, especially anyone associated with that fat Dursley. Said 'It would be a favour to help them'"

Placing down the papers, Dumbledore turned his attention over to Fudge who sat there nervously, "So what do you want me to do about it? Do you need my advice on this?"

"Alas, that is not the case sadly" replied Fudge "No...what I want, is answers"

The tone in the room quickly turned cold as Dumbledore noticed the Minister's agitation, "What answers are you talking about specifically?"

"Please don't play dumb Dumbledore - it is extremely insulting to your intelligence" Fudge reached into his briefcase once again and pulled out a crinkled newspaper. Its yellowing pages indicated to its constant use, yet the words were still clear enough for Dumbledore to read the emboldened words at the front, "I think this should clearly indicate what I want. No - scratch that - what the people want"

"I see... Is that why you've arranged this little meeting of ours?"

"Yes...every since that boy died, there has been a cascade of problems one after the other. Anti-muggle sentiment is on the rise, there's been an increase in dark activity, paranoia is infesting the streets and there have been talks from my political opponents of removing me for my incompetence. People are scared Albus, scared of what might happen now that the boy is dead. But worst off is they're confused. Confused as to how this could have happened in the first place "

"So how'd you know I had something to do with the boy? As far as I'm concerned, the only person from the Ministry who knew where I took the boy that fateful night was your predecessor Millicent Bagnold"

"You can thank your, half-giant friend, for that," said Fudge condescendingly, "Aurors were sent to the Leaky Cauldron yesterday due to noise complaints. Your friend and quite a number of people were arrested for drunken behaviour and misconduct. Told us some very interesting thing while he was sobering up in his cell"

'Oh Hagrid...' Dumbledore internally groaned as he realized what Hagrid must have done, 'Boy's a good kid but if you put him together with alcohol, he'll never cease to amaze me with the amount of stupidity he can commit"

"He's not in trouble I hope," said Dumbledore to which Fudge shook his head.

"Nah... We let him out this morning. Still, to the matter at hand I know now that you took the boy, so do a large number of people in the Ministry and their families. You can bet that information will not be suppressed no matter how hard I try. Reporters are going to be here soon demanding answers so the least you could do is still tell them to me before you have to tell it to a crowd of angry, and frankly, gossip-hungry reporters"

Fudge and Dumbledore had a small staring contest before Dumbledore sighed and stood up from his chair. He then walked over to one of the many tables that decorated his office and motioned Fudge over to it. This particular table housed a miniature silver contraption that looked like a combination of a Tesla coil with a large red ruby implanted in the middle. This particular ruby however now sat, dully as a piece of rock, as if all the colour in it had been drained out.

"There is ancient magic," said Dumbledore wearily as he prodded the machine a few times with his wand. Despite each prod he gave it, the machine didn't respond in any way though it allowed Fudge to have a closer look at the age showing on Dumbledore's face, "A magic extremely powerful in its own rights, yet how it works still to this day bewilders us wizards"

"What is it?"

"Love" replied Dumbledore simply, "So simple, isn't it? Yet it was this very thing that saved Harry that fateful night. The moment his mother threw herself willingly to protect the boy, she evoked this ancient magic. Through her love, she cast upon the child, a protection spell more powerful than any shield charm in the world. It is because of her love for her own child, that Voldemort was defeated that night "

Fudge shuddered slightly at the mention of Voldemort's name "Surely... - you're telling me, that the reason You-Know-Who was defeated that night, was because of his mother's protection? Not his own skill?"

"Would you believe a fifteen-month-old child could defeat one of the most powerful dark wizards of the century?"

"I...I...No..." said Fudge "I mean I believed it when it happened. But thinking about it - truthfully no"

"And you wouldn't be wrong" agreed Dumbledore "This magic works in peculiar ways. It requires a sacrificial pawn, someone who is offered the chance of life but consciously chooses death to protect another out of nothing but pure love. Once it is cast, the intended victim would be protected from their would-be murderer, who in turn cannot even touch the victim without feeling immense pain. All casted spells on the victim by the murderer would either rebound or have a reduced effect"

"Then how did the child defeat You-Know-Who? If the only thing he had was a powerful protection spell"

"Now this is all guesswork and theories," said Dumbledore, "My guess, however, is that due to the protection from his mother, the Killing Curse used by Voldemort rebounded back towards him, and as a result, he was defeated"

"Does...does this mean You-Know-Who is truly dead?" asked Fudge hopefully. He prayed in his heart that Dumbledore would say yes back to him.

"Alas no" Fudge's heart sank "I do not believe that Voldemort would be willing to die just like that without at least some effort to preserve himself. My best bet is that he's out there somewhere, too weak to come back but slowly regaining his power"

"Okay... But why did you put him with those muggles? Because of them, the boy is now dead and the whole wizarding world is seemingly ready to explode"

"There was no other choice"

"No other choice!" yelled Fudge right back into Dumbledore's face, "Merlin's beard, Dumbledore! There are plenty of wizarding families that would have gladly taken the boy in, heck he would've been safer at the Ministry than with those damn muggles"

"Sadly that is not possible" replied Dumbledore calmly to the fuming Minister, "By the time word reached of Voldemort's defeat, his Death Eaters would have stormed the country in search of the boy for revenge. Have you forgotten what happened to the Longbottom's?"

"B...But the Ministry - "

"Was compromised with spies and you know it" interrupted Dumbledore, "handing the boy over to the Ministry would have assured him a Deathwish"

"Eruggh…,Fine, I'll trust you on that" Fudge deflated slightly as he sunk back into his chair, "The wizarding world wasn't safe. But why those muggles, Albus? Why not a regular muggle's orphanage or something? Hagrid told us that Minerva was spying on them the whole day, warning you of what they were like when you brought the boy to them, why did you persist with it?"

"There was a reason behind that" admitted Dumbledore, " The case of Harry Potter was unique because the victim was his own mother. Because of this, another charm was cast, known as the 'bond of blood'. This charm prevents the boy from being harmed by Voldemort as long as he was in the confines of a relative, specifically a relative that was related to Lily Potter by blood. Hence is why I placed him with his muggle aunt, Lily Potter's sister and the only remaining blood relative to Harry"

"This charm ensured that he would be protected" continued Dumbledore, "Protected as long as he regarded his aunt's residence 'home' until he reaches the age of maturity, seventeen. Doing this would have protected him from the remnants of Voldemort's army and given him time to grow up as a normal child before being exposed to the harsh reality of our world"

"My only failing was my inability, no - rather my stubbornness to accept the Dursley's true nature" Dumbledore sighed sadly and it was in this moment that Fudge truly felt sympathy for the elderly man, "I believed that they were redeemable, that they could have been willing to accept the child for what he was because he was family. Petunia herself had once written to me as a child, expressing how much she wanted to be a witch despite her lack of magical capabilities. I hoped that her desire as a child would have allowed her to accept the boy. I guess I was greatly mistaken - and now a child is dead because of my actions"

He pointed to the large contraption with his wand, particularly the large ruby that was lodged in the centre of the tesla-coil like machine. "This machine was to monitor the strength of the blood wards. But now that the boy is dead, you can see that the ruby is duller. This indicates that the protection spells over the Dursley's house are failing"

"The only thing I don't understand - Is why you pulled all of this and didn't tell any of us," said Fudge. Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"I couldn't risk the boy's safety. The war had just swung in our favour and the army of Voldemort was scattered. Sure they had lost their leader and their purpose, but many of them were out for blood. Had I revealed what I was doing, what's to stop they from imperising a few muggles to head over to the house and attack all of them? As far as I'm concerned, the wards don't work against muggle intruders"

"The idea was to raise the boy away from all of it. Away from the war and the damages that it had caused. To give the boy a normal upbringing away from the destruction. But all did was deliver him to his death"

By now the teapot was empty, its contents having been drained by both of the occupants in the room. In the back, Fawkes gave a loud squawk before flying out of the opened mosaic window to explore the grounds of the school. Fudge gave the Phoenix an interested look before turning back to Dumbledore.

"So what happens now?" Dumbledore merely gave a tired shrug of his shoulders.

"I don't know. You tell me"

"I...I want to tell the public. To give them the answers. Yet the people don't want it from me... they want the answer to come from you"

"If that is the case, then I shall go with you and reveal to the public everything. Its the least I can do now to ensure the paranoia doesn't spread to across the wizarding world"

"If that is what you think is the best case, then I will support you in whatever way I can. Your advice has been a tremendous help in my early years so the least I could do now is back you up, Albus"

"Still..." said Fudge as he got up and stretched his back, "If that is all for tonight then I must request my departure. I have to get up and ready tomorrow to prepare the reporters"

"Of course, Cornelius" The two men stood up and shook hands before the Minister for Magic walked over to Dumbledore's fireplace and threw a few traces of Floo powder into the still crackling flames. With a loud whoosh, the flames grew even larger and the colour changed to emerald green.

"Oh by the way...whatever happened to Harry Potter's body?" said Dumbledore from his headmaster's seat.

"Hmm...? The boy's body? Don't worry about that, we were able to attain it from the muggle "Aurors" once they were done with their investigation"

"Police Cornelius, Police" corrected Dumbledore, to which Fudge just rolled his eyes at him, "Still where are you planning to bury the boy?"

"Where else but with his family, of course" replied Fudge with a sad smile, "Godric's Hollow"

With those last words, Cornelius Fudge stepped into the flames and vanished from the room, leaving behind an exhausted Albus Dumbledore alone in his office. Surrounded by his contraptions that continued to make clicking sounds as he sat there in silence with his thoughts.

 **Author's Notes: I've decided to make Fudge less of an idiot in this fanfic. While he was a good-natured person that meant well, his fixation on maintaining peace ultimately made him an antagonist in the books. Nothing wrong with that, as paranoia can change even the best of people. Harry's early death, however, has forced him now to take thing much more seriously and with Dumbledore telling him everything; who knows, maybe things will turn out differently.**

 **I think we've had enough of the wizarding world for now. Next few chapters will focus primarily on Harry and how the world of Zoophobia ties into the Harry Potter Canon. See you until then.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter and Zoophobia canon. They are the rightful property of J.K Rowling and Vivienne Madrano respectively.  
**

Chapter 4: Harry in Hell l

Nothing.

That was all he heard. Nothing.

Harry Potter felt weightless as he floated among the clouds, basking in the warm light of the sun. As he did so, he never before felt so calm and peaceful. Nowhere was there the angry shouts of his uncle, the shrieks from his aunt nor the ramblings of his cousin Dudley. It was just him, and the silence as his soul ascended higher and higher.

Opening his eyes, he could see that he didn't have a body, or rather, he had a body but he couldn't feel it. Non-corporeal. His body had a light, pearly white sheen and every time he tried to put his hands together, his fingers would merely phase through one another. If he were to describe it, he'd been one of those ghosts from the movies that Dudley watches on his television.

Looking around him, he could see that a number of other people were also ascending like him. All of them held dazzled expression, all of them pearly white like he was. Some moved in groups, other alone. It mattered not for they were all going to the same place. As they reached the epitome of the clouds, it parted like a great wave, exposing the golden gates that were hidden behind it. The gates themselves were fancy, decorated in pure gold with Christian crosses stamped onto the metal. A flaming golden sword stood at the front of the gate, as did a winged figure clad in golden robes just like the rest of the surrounding. Curiously next to all the gold, was a dull wooden sign dug into the cloud, comically reading; **Heaven, Population 2,135,675**.

'So this is heaven?' thought Harry. The prospect of going to heaven was exciting. Finally, he'll be able to see his parent again. Finally, he'll live the life that he always wanted. A life free from all the pain and the abuse.

So why was he falling?

'Wait...Falling!?" Harry looked down and sure enough, he felt himself slipping further and further away from the gates of heaven. It was as if something had grabbed onto his legs and began pulling him down. The wind roared in his ears as his speed picked up, eventually, losing complete sight of the golden gates, 'Wait, this can't be! What did I do wrong!'

The desperate eight-year-old held his tiny arms out, frantically yet with great futility, attempted to grab onto a puff of cloud. Looking around him, he saw other numerous figures falling out of the sky just like he was. Some held expressions of fear and grief, others showed a lack of anything. It was almost as if they were expecting something. Then he saw it.

A great gash slit across the skies, like a tear through space itself. The massive split spewed fire and from its dark, endless epicentre, a cacophony of shrieks and screams. The sounds emulating from within spoke of pain, great pain, fear and all manners of a demented choir. Numerous souls like Harry were being sucked in at an astonishing rate, their faces carved with so much despair and fear.

Harry kicked his little legs as fast as he could, yet it made no difference as it merely spurred his descent faster. As he reached the edge of the rift, he felt for the first time since his death; pain. A pain so great that it exceeded all the pain the Vernon Dursley inflicted upon in his entire lifetime. The flames charred his skin, flayed his muscles and literally melted his insides; despite his lack of a body. Harry was eventually completely consumed by the murderous fire, but not before noticing one final detail. Planted outside of the rift was a sign; a sign not that much different from the one he saw near heaven's gate. This one too read, **Hell, Population,** however, unlike the other sign, this one hilariously had no specific number. It just keeps climbing like a speedometer on a constantly moving car.

That was the last thing he saw before the flames consumed his eyes and he felt himself fall through the darkness.

* * *

"Oi! Get up and start moving"

Harry felt a burst of pain in his sides that immediately forced his eyes open. As he tried to rub his eyes with his hands to clear his vision, he was shocked to find out that he couldn't, rather, he lacked any hands in the first place to even attempt it. His panic quickly rising, it took another kick to his side that got him to focus on the bigger picture.

"Are you deaf? Get the fuck up before I make you!"

Harry looked up to see a figure that immediately scared the living daylights out of him. The figure was large, about as large as an adolescent buffalo. His skin was flayed a bright fiery red though, it was pulled back to the point that it looked like it was stretching to the maximum. His arms, torso, and legs were decorated with tribal tattoos that depicted large snakes wrapped around a totem pole with expressions of immense pain and fear. At the end of each of his limbs, were large, sharp yellow claws that dug into the ground as he walked. However, the one thing that stood out the most (and scared Harry the most), was his face. His face was demonic in nature, with large horns sprouting out of his head, black sclera with red pupils and large razor teeth that sat in neat rows in his mouth. Like with the rest of his body, the figure's face was also decorated with tattoos, except these ones were wolven in a way such that they looked like that came directly from his eyes.

The demon must have noticed Harry staring as he turned to him in hatred and spoke with a venomous tone, "What? You shittin yourself by looking at me? Get used to it, you're in Hell now"

Wait. Hell?

"Hell?" asked Harry meekly to which the demon merely sighed in frustration and jabbed Harry forwards with a rough shove.

"Yes - Hell" replied the demon. He gave Harry one last shove before pushing him into a crowd of moving souls, "Now fuck off and have a nice day"

The revelation of where he was along with the harsh tone of the demon shook him to the core, allowing his spirit body to be carried by the current of the souls. All around him were balls of fire, each of them burning brightly though they emitted no heat. A human face was stamped onto each of the bodies of fire, most of them men and women though some were faces of children.

The stream of souls moved in a single file, entering a tunnel with demonic prints on the side. The walls were a gnarled and twisted in odd ways though it formed a barely recognizable archway that filled its purpose perfectly. As Harry entered the archway with all the souls around him, he noticed a small figure standing on top of a flat obelisk.

"Alright you degenerates!" spoke the small red-furred demon with a megaphone. He was rather small for a demon, with small black and red horns along with comedic white eyes, "My name is Bob and I'm in charge of your stay in hell. You're here because you've been bad people - but don't worry, we'll fix you up right away!"

He gave a sadistic chuckle that terrified Harry - so much so that he stopped walking in terror. He souls around him didn't seem to notice he stopped, and instead simply walked around him. Bob, on the other hand, noticed immediately that Harry was standing there shell-shocked and swopped in to have a look at him.

"Well, Well, Who do we have here?" He poked Harry's spirit body with a sharp nail, " What's got you so wrapped up, huh?"

"Is...Is this really hell?" asked Harry meekly, to which Bob just threw his head back laughing,

"Of course its hell boy, You've been naughty so heaven decided to send you here" He chuckled to himself a little more before he turned to Harry with a serious expression, "Don't think you're the only one. You'll won't be the first nor the last"

"Wh-whats going to happen now?" asked Harry.

"Oh...I don't know" replied Bob nonchalantly, "Maybe we'll suspend you from your legs and roast you over the fire for shits and giggles. Or maybe we'll use rats to consume your insides, or roast you over a slow fire"

The flashback to Uncle Vernon's abusive words sent cold shivers down Harry's spine. Despite Bob only jesting with Harry, he had no idea that his words were causing Harry to have a panic attack, only noticing when Harry began smashing his body against the sides of the walls in a futile attempt to get away from what ever ghost he was seeing.

"Woah! What are you doing?!" screamed Bob. Some of the other souls stopped walking and turned over to observe the disturbance between the demon and Harry's erratic behaviour, "If you keep doing that the glass will crac-"

Sure enough to Bob's words, Harry's constant pounding of the walls eventually caused it to smash open, revealing that it was, in fact, a glass wall made to look like it was pure brimstone. Alas, the force of Harry's body also caused him to fall through the hole that he made, leaving behind a wide-eyed Bob as he watched Harry's body plunge down to the lower depths of Hell.

'Well...shit...' though Bob as he pulled out his phone. He skimmed through the list of contacts before he found the one he wanted.

"Hey, Larry? Call Major Styx, we have a possible unwritten soul on the loose."

* * *

As Harry fell further and further down the depths of hell, he barely felt any of the wind brushing against his spirit body. The only pain he could feel was the pain in his heart. The pain that was brought from the realization of where he was.

Hell.

How this have happened? That was the only question that plagued his mind. To Harry, this had to be a mistake. He had held out for so long, he had done everything that anyone had ever demanded on him with no complaint, no hatred in his heart. Sure sometimes he fought back against his cousin - but to him, that was only when the pain had been too unbearable.

Suicide might have been a step too far, true. But how can suicide be a step too far compared to all the things that his Uncle ever did to him? It just didn't make any sense anymore.

He was nearing the bottom of hell now. Underneath him was a spectacle to behold, an entire city in the form of a Sigil of Baphomet, complete with neon lights and everything that made it completely different from what Harry initial thought Hell would look like.

Not that it really mattered. As he got closer and closer to the red ground, the final thoughts of Harry were simple.

'I wish I'd never been born'

Pain.

It was the only thing he felt once he hit the ground. But the pain didn't come from the impact, rather it came from within him. He felt a searing hot pain spread over his entire body as he laid there, withering and screaming.

Then the changes came. Despite having no body, pain that could only be described as if someone was stretching his limbs rippled through Harry's body. Bones formed, tissue appeared and soon skin and hair morphed, covered them and forming the outline of a body. In his head, Harry could feel objects sprouting from his skull, driving directly into his brain, and causing intense pain to drill right to the centre of his brain. He clutched his head (once he realized he had arms again), and began rubbing it in a futile attempt to ease the pain.

Soon the pain faded. And Harry fell to his knees, panting in exhaustion. To his amazement, his spirit body was now gone and in its place was a new body, one that was quite larger than his malnourished eight-year-old body from when he was alive. Apart from the slightly pale skin and red and black hair, Harry felt as if he was alive again with everything in place. Brushing his hair, he was quite disappointed to feel that it was still as messy as usual, though there were now two small antlers on his head and two tufts of hair sticking up like deer ears.

Looking around him, Harry saw that he was in an alleyway. The wretched smell of garbage and waste permeated around the dumpsters that stood against the walls, flooding his nose and causing his eyes to tear up. Pulling up a chunk of his shirt to cover his nose (sadly his clothes remain the same as the ones he died in), Harry forced himself to pass the mass of garbage and emerged onto the main street.

Hell was...interesting to say the least, or rather it wasn't what he expected. All around Harry was the hustle and bustle of an everyday metropolitan, with people all walking and generally acting civilized, not at all what the television told him. Neon lights illuminated buildings, people stood in front of stalls advertising their merchandise, and people sat at these stalls, not eating but instead sniffing white powders, consuming brightly coloured pills and injecting themselves with needles of red fluids.

'It's almost like a normal city' thought Harry, as his eight-year-old brain failed to recognize that he was standing in the presence of drug junkies and prostitutes, 'Now if only the people were actually normal'.

True to his thoughts, the demons around him were varied in their forms. Some held humane features with a more demonic outlook, others animalistic and primitive in nature, heck some were a weird combination of both. Then there were those that looked like nothing he'd ever seen before, straight out of the horror shows that Dudley would watch. Mouths in weird places, elongated claws, multiple eyes. There was even one demon snorting crack that had his entire face upside down.

Harry felt naked amongst the sea of demons that surrounded him, like a newborn surrounded by the veteran birds of a flock. Harry thought to himself that the best bet for him to find his way around was to find the best authority figure. However, looking around at all the drug use and the 'questionable' activities that the demons were engaging in, Harry felt slightly deflated as he thought about what to do next.

His eyes lightened up however when he noticed a rather professional looking demon leaning against the entrance to a building illuminated by a red light above the door. The demon was human in nature if one was to neglect the two goat horns poking out from his locks of yellow hair. He was dressed in a well-mannered suit and held a bored expression on his face as he let people into the building. Harry thought to himself that amongst all the demons around him, this was the safest one for him to approach.

The demon's eyebrows raised slightly as he saw Harry approach him. When they stood face to face with one another, Harry felt slightly intimidated as he realized that the demon was at least half a metre taller than he was. For the briefiest moment, they stood there, one unable to start the conversation because he was too afraid and the other because he simply didn't care.

"Well...? Aren't you coming in the whorehouse?" asked the demon after the prolonged wait, "Seriously get in or get away from here, your beginning to piss me off"

"Huh? Oh sorry, sir" apologized Harry to which the demon expressed genuine surprise, "I was just going to ask you some directions. Do you know where I can find the police, sir?"

"Been a long time since anyone called me sir" replied the demon in a raspy voice, now getting off the wall to stare down at Harry even more, "Just what are you playing at?"

"No-Nothing sir!" replied Harry as he broke out in cold sweat, "Just...Aunt Petunia always taught me to be polite to adults - because it means they won't hit me"

He muttered that last part to himself, though the demon continued to look at him with suspicious eyes.

"Really...? Look I understand you have the physique of a kid but you don't need to act one too"

"B-but I'm not lying! I only eight!"

"Wait...What!?" The demon's eyes widened in shock as he took in the information, "You're really eight?"

"Yes!"

"Kid...I don't know how you died or what you did to get here" He sighed and fell back against the wall, "But seeing a kid down here is quite a shock. Not many kids go to hell. How'd you die anyway?"

"Umm...Well...I sort of jumped..." Harry yelped as the demon grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, albeit rather roughly.

"Wait you committed suicide!? Damn... kid that a grave sin!"

"S-Sin?"

"Hell yeah it's a grave sin"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. First was his horrible life. Then the rejection from heaven, the painful transformation and now the soul-crushing revelation of his mistakes. He simply broke down in tears right in front of the still-shocked demon.

"Woah, Woah!" The demon jumped back in shock as he looked down at the pitiful state of the boy. His mind was in conflicts as he wondered whether to help the kid or not. On one hand, he could sympathize slightly with the boy. On the other hand, he was getting flashbacks of other patrons acting like this before and it filled him with an absolute desire to kick the boy's face in.

Luckily for him he didn't need to do any of that, for the door next to him slammed open and the woman of his nightmares emerged from it.

"Yoo-hoo...! Hey Auburn, do want to have some fun!?"

The demon, now called Auburn, turned his attention to the newest demon that just entered their conversation. Her appearance was definitely...unique to put it in polite terms. She had pale grey skin with slightly darker grey hair that cascaded pass her shoulders in waves. Her teeth were a light yellow sheen with all of them styled in fangs and her fingernails were long and elongated, painted the same shade of yellow as her teeth. What Auburn really believed was her most defining trait was her red eyes, a shade of red so sharp it felt as if she was staring right into your soul. That...and the 'interesting' outfit she wore that exposed most of her body and greatly emphasized her...'assets'

"Ohh...Auburn were you checking me out again?" She got closer to him and pushed herself against his chest, "You know you can do what ever you want with me, right?"

Her playful tone faded away as she noticed Harry who was quietly sobbing to himself next to Auburn.

"Were you bullying my customers again?"

"No I wasn't Mel - besides this one is only eight anyways - he doesn't know you're a whore"

" He's eight?" Mel squealed as she picked up Harry and squeezed him against her chest, "Ohmygosh! He's adorable!"

"Yeah...Mel - I think you're suffocating him"

"Huh...?"

Sure enough, Harry was waving his tiny little arms in an attempt to break free from Mel's grasp, his face enveloped by her breasts which made him unable to breathe. She quickly let go of him which made him land rather painfully on his bottom.

"So sorry...are you okay?"

"Huh!? Umm...yes miss"

"Wow! So polite too!" Mel then turned to Auburn who just looked on with an amused expression, "What this kid do to get down here?"

"Committed suicide from what he told me"

"Oh, my gawd - really?"

"Well...not my fault...I mean...Uncle and Aunt and Dudley would never leave me alone" protested Harry, "Everything I do is not good enough for them. Never good enough for them. I just couldn't take it anymore"

"And now you're in hell...Oh, you poor child give big sis here a hug!" Harry yelped as he tried to prevent Mel from suffocating him again as she leaned in again for a hug.

"Still" continued Auburn, watching from the side with an amused expression, "What do you plan on doing now that you're in hell?"

"I...I don't know...maybe find a policeman or something to help me" replied Harry.

"Yeah...about that. I don't think there are police down here. Down here its total anarchy, everyone for themselves"

"Not quite," said Mel, finally releasing Harry to ponder to herself, "What about Satan? He's technically the ruler of hell. Sure he leaves us demons on our own to do what we want, but he still makes sure that the whole place doesn't collapse in on itself"

"Umm...isn't he bad or something?" asked Harry worriedly, "I mean...the church always said he was evil and stuff"

"Who Satan? Nah he's okay actually. Not the best, sure, but when you're in hell you can't expect everyone to be the best"

"Y-You know where I can find him?"

"Sure, here" Mel reached between her breasts and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. As she unfolded it and showed it to Harry, he was amazed to see he was looking at a map of Hell, shaped in the Sigil of Baphomet.

"Okay we are currently here" Mel pointed to the topmost point of the star, "This is the red light district of hell. Where you want to go is here, the central pentagram. The entire area is owned by Satan so once you enter it you should be okay"

"However, be wary of this place" She pointed to an area that sat between the northern point and its entrance to the central pentagram, "There's a lot of demon gangs down there so you'll be safer going around them via this street. Here take the map. I won't need it anymore anyway"

"Thank you Mr Auburn, Miss Mel! I'll be on my way now"

With that little Harry took off running with the map clutched in his hands, much to the amusement of Auburn and Mel who just watched him scamper away.

"You know we could have come with him right?" asked Auburn. Mel merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Nah...this place is hell...the sooner he realizes how horrible it is. The sooner he'll grow up"

"I was wondering where your cruelty went"

Mel merely chuckled to herself before pushing her body against Auburn's, "Now why don't we go inside and have some fun? I let you use the whip on me this time~!"

"Heh, heh...sure...but let me call a replacement first"

"Don't keep me waiting~~!" said Mel seductively. With that, the dominatrix re-entered the whorehouse, leaving behind a smirking Auburn who pulled his phone out.

"Oi Harris! Stop plowing that prostitute and get up here! It's time for your shift"

 **Author Notes: Sorry for making Hell this graphic. Sadly I don't know much about Hell from Zoophobia so I took some inspiration from the Hell from Hazbin Hotel and made my own spin from it. And for those who didn't realize, Harry has turned into a deer demon. The reason why will be explained in later chapters.**

 **Also, I'm going on holiday soon, so there might be a really long gap until the next chapter. Other than that, thanks for reading and I see you next time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the really long wait. I've been on holiday and I must say, Thailand and Taiwan really is nicer than I thought it would be. Weather is rather horrible though. Thailand is hot and humid while Taiwan is constantly cold and gloomy. Still, thank you for waiting and here is the latest chapter for you. Also, I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter and Zoophobia canon. They are the rightful property of J.K Rowling and Vivienne Madrano respectively.**

 **Chapter 5: Harry in Hell ll**

If one were to describe Hell, they would say it was - wild, in the politest term.

It was complete and total anarchy in Harry's eyes. As he waddled along the streets of Hell, occasionally referring to the map provided to him by Mel for reference, his eyes took in all the sights that Hell had to offer.

Demons of all shape and form populated the city, engaging in a number of activities that made Harry sure that if his Uncle Vernon was here, he would have died again at the sheer lack of control that many of these demons were engaging in. All around him, every form of debauchery was being committed. Demons lined the streets taking drugs, drinking and vandalizing the buildings; others formed circles and gambled on unwilling participants being forced to kill one another with clubs. Prostitutes tried their luck with passerby's, with some even propositioning to Harry! Drag races occasionally thundered down the badly built roads, scaring Harry half to death when the drivers lobbed bottles and bricks at him for fun.

Amongst it all, Harry's mind was completely boggled between how he should be feeling towards his situation. On one hand, he felt terrified at all the wild things happening around him; and on the other hand, he felt a slight sense of excitement to be felling free from his family's grip for the first time in a long time. With so many foreign and alien things happening all around him, how could he not be slightly intrigued?

He won't lie, the thing he wanted more than anything right now was to get out of Hell. He wasn't sure how that was going to happen, but his best lead right now was the little amount of knowledge about Satan that he got from the prostitute. If here words were true then Satan might not be as bad as the church made him out to be,

With any luck, and with Satan's help, he'll soon be out of here. He was having serious regrets about whether suicide was the right option or not.

As Harry made another right-hand turn, he found himself in an alleyway, not unlike the ones he passed by or the first one he found himself in when he first fell into Hell. However, this particular alleyway was occupied by two demons, currently arguing over something based on bits of their conversation. Harry would have skipped past them, but the map clearly stated that he had to pass by this alley- so, hoping that his luck was still working, Harry ducked behind a dumpster and peeked his little head up to get a better look at the two demons.

The first demon was massive, easily a good ruler's length taller than the average male. He was reptilian in nature with shimmering blue scales and bright yellow eyes. Etched into his skin were orange tattoos, taking the form of tigers and dragons engaging in massive battles. Chinese characters just as vibrant were also etched into his skin though Harry had no idea what they meant.

The second demon was much shorter than the first one, but he sure was a lot brighter. He had a mop of rainbow-colored that cascaded over his eyes and wore extremely loud clothes, consisting of a rainbow-colored tie-dyed shirt, tie-dyed cargo pants, and rainbow sneakers. His skin, funny enough, was also vibrant in many colors as if someone had splattered the colors on with a paint brush.

Harry nearly exposed his position when he gasped in shock, stopped by the timely intervention of his hand. Right in front of his eyes, the lizard demon whipped out a pistol from his side and put four rounds into the chest of his unfortunate victim. As the demon bent down to spit and curse at his victim, Harry felt bile form at the back of his throat.

A murder. A real murder. And he was the star witness to it.

He'd never seen a real murder before. What sane kid has?

He heard about it from the news channel that his Uncle would watch. But hearing about it behind the safety of a screen compared to witnessing it in real life was completely different experiences. One that made Harry frozen with shock and fear.

Soon the lizard demon had left with the victim's wallet, leaving behind a shell-shocked Harry hidden behind the dumpster.

'Move on' thought Harry as he left his hiding spot and continued down the alley. As he passed by the body, he couldn't help but feel slightly sicker and puked slightly on the demon's corpse. Reaching down to clean the bile from the demon's shirt out of respect, he accidentally parted the demon's long hair and was surprised to see the demon's amber eyes staring right back at him.

"Rarrrrrrrgh!"

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

Harry screamed as the demon suddenly shot up, his eyes frenzied and his arms reaching out for Harry's throat. He fell back rather quickly after that, though it did leave behind a petrified Harry staring at his corpse.

"Oh my...it seems you killed Murphy"

Harry recoiled in shock at the new voice behind him. Turning around, he saw two new demons enter the alleyway. One was a clown, or rather a hellish version of what a clown was supposed to look like. He had a voluptuous stomach, one that threatened to burst the buttons to his brightly colored clown costume. In addition to that, he sported white gloves, pink and white slippers and wilted flowers embroidered into various places on his costume. Complete with white face make-up and a bright cherry red nose, he pretty much pulled off the creepy clown vibe.

His friend, however, was a complete Ghost Rider ripoff, wearing a leather jacket studded with spikes, chains wrapped around his legs and arms a flaming skull for a head. Interestingly enough, the flame that ignited his skull head wasn't a warm orange color, but rather a collection of vibrant colors such as lilac, green and blue. At specific intervals, these flames would flare up, the same way an open fire would when exposed to excessive oxygen.

"Use your eyes, Chuck," said the demon with the flaming skull, "Do you seriously think that shrimpy over here can kill Murphy?"

"Yep!" replied the demon called Chuck, "How else do you explain it? We come back from patrol, and we find Murphy dead with this little shit next to him. I may be dumb, but I'm not blind"

"Blind enough to not notice his size"

"Size doesn't mean shit when it comes to age, Marley," said Chuck briskly, "Remember that fucker down in the southern area? The guy was short as a dwarf yet he was a serial killer in 1682, killed the squad he sent there in two hours"

"Oi, you! How old are you?!"

Harry flinched as the two demons returned their attention to him. Looking down, he noticed that both of them were carrying pistols and clubs.

"Umm...e-eight sir" stammered Harry to which Marley snorted.

"Yeah right - I call bullshit!"

"But its the truth!" protested Harry, "I really am eight!"

"Yeah - and I'm the fucking Pope" scoffed Marley as he pulled out a wicked looking knife with a curved hilt, "Speak honestly else I'll fuckin gut you"

"Now hold on there Marley" Chuck reached forward and pushed down the knife that Marley was waving in Harry's face, "Why do we even care about this prick's age? Shouldn't we be thinking about Murphy instead?"

"Are you fucking with me? WHY in Lucifer's name are you the one to tell me off?!"

"Cause you're the one at fault"

"Bullshit! I call Bullshit! Why is it that I always fucked for all your shit?! First, it was the failed drug run, then the ambush where you left for ice cream, then the shakedown where the target got away because you were staring at whores!"

"Like I said. Your fault"

Marley made a strange sound as if he was choking and gasping for air at the said time.

"Fuck. You"

"Oh please - I would want you to. But your dick is too small. Or should I say you don't have a dick"

Harry stood there awkwardly as he watched the two demons bicker back and forth. While the contents of their conversation were funny enough at the beginning, some parts of it left him thinking that these two might be more dangerous than they let on.

Slowly, but surely, Harry attempted to slip away, hoping to whatever luck that he had left, that the two would be too engaged in their conversation to notice him.

Sadly he was gravely mistaken and squeaked in fright when the demon called Chuck grabbed him by the wrist.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

"I-I...I'm just-" It was all there. The tone in his voice, the way he slowly pronounced each word, the strength in his grip and the predatory nature in his eyes. it reminded Harry of the way Dudley and his friends would speak to their victims, right before their demise. It was something Harry learned through years of being their punching bag. Yet as he looked deeper into the eyes of what he presumed was his bully, there was something that he never has seen before. Something complete foreign. It filled him with dread as he wondered what the demon was going to do to him.

"Think you could get away huh?" continued Chuck while Marley looked on from behind. "Sorry, but things aren't going to work like that. Murphy's still dead and the big man is going to want to know why"

"Also..." Chuck trailed off as he eyed Harry up and down, "I think I'll have some fun before handing you over. Got to sample the merchandise after all"

Marley groaned in the distance and facepalmed ( how he does that I don't know). "Dude - that is sick! What if he really is eight?!"

"All the better than" replied Chuck coolly. His eyes hardened as he turned to his friend, "Besides, what is it to you? I didn't you believing him before"

Marley gritted his teeth as Chuck got him there. All he could do was mutter as he turned away from Chuck, "You are one sick fucker. Do you know that?"

"Ah, but that's what all the parents said" he grinned sheepishly to himself as if he was reminiscing a pleasant memory, "I do miss the little kiddies"

"Wh-what are you going to do to me?" Harry yelped as he was pushed up against the walls and pinned there by Chuck.

"Nothing that I won't enjoy" he chuckled darkly as he reached for Harry's pants.

Faced with the prospect of what he thought was a wedgie, Harry did what most sensible people would do, raise some hell. However, all his arm waving and yelling did was further incentivize the clown demon.

"Ooohhh! A fighter ain't you. Good! I love the kiddies that scream"

He leaned for a better position, slobbering a little as he indulged in his filthy perversion. His fixation of how he was going to violate Harry ultimately made him miss what was to come. Harry, panicking from Chuck's excessive heavy breathing and drooling, finally scored a hit on Chuck when he swung his legs right into the gap between the clown demon's legs.

Funny enough it might have been an accident on Harry's part. Though intentional or not, it proved effective as Chuck keeled over from the pain.

Harry crawled away in shock as the massive clown demon laid there, both hands clutching his family jewels. Looking at the nearby Marley out of fear of repercussions, he was surprised to see the demon leaning against the wall with an air of neutrality.

"Best start running shrimpy," he said indifferently as he indicated to his friend who was slowly recovering, "I won't stop him when he gets you, just saying"

Scrambling to his feet, Harry fled from the alleyways as fast as he could; and just in time too as the voice of Chuck could be heard echoing the narrow walls behind him.

"Keep on running, you're turning me on!"

Harry burst onto the main streets, one heavily populated with demons. Without a sense of direction, along with the fear from Chuck driving him, Harry ran as fast he could whilst simultaneously turning in random directions in an attempt to throw the child rapist off. As he jostled and pushed past the demons in his way, his new deer ears picked up titbits of the insults thrown his way.

"Watch it you little shit!"

"Hey - Fuck you too!"

"Think you own the street don't you little shit?!"

Harry paid no mind to any of these insults and instead pushed through, only changing direction when he spotted the clown demon and Marley hunting him in the distance. Though... it looked more like it was Chuck that was hunting him, Marley only followed bemused.

To busy looking at his pursuers, Harry walked straight into another demon, one that was massive in height and looked extremely unpleasant. Harry feared repercussions for a moment, only to sigh in relief when he recognized the familiar dark blue uniform that he wore.

"Officer! Please, you have to help me!" The demon looked uninterested as he watched Harry beg in front of him. "There's this scary man who keeps trying to do weird things to me!"

"Is that so...?"

"Yes! Please, he looks like a creepy clown"

"I see..."

To Harry's horror, the demon that looked like a police officer leaned back and yelled out for all of Hell to hear.

"HEY CHUCK! HE'S OVER HERE!"

Immediately all of the surrounding demons stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Harry and the demon standing in the central plaza. For a moment no one spoke, then to Harry's dread, a familiar face emerged from the crowd.

"Thanks, Borris! How's the mistress doing?" said Chuck.

"Bored now that you're not coming more often" replied Borris as he sauntered off, "Have your fun, you sicko"

Harry hyperventilated as Chuck pushed him against the fountain, wincing from the pain that shot up his back from the impact. As he watched Chuck tower over him, he looked around frantically for help, only to have his hopes shattered when most of the surrounding demons left without as much as a glance in his direction. Only a few stayed behind to watch, some for amusement, others for the sick pleasure.

"You gave me quite the chase, that's for sure" panted Chuck as he fumbled with the belt of his pants, "Now why don't you give me some sugar"

Harry's emotional state reached an all-time high as he realized he suddenly couldn't see. Chuck had covered his eyes with his hands.

"Close your eyes...It'll soon be over"

The tone was sickly sweet; fruity with a hint of warmth one might associate with a parent's love. Yet it was fake, faker than any lie ever spoken from a person. A moral person at least.

As the last of Harry's will broke, shattered like porcelain glass. He did something he hadn't done since he landed in hell.

He cried.

He had seen horrors. Horrors that no child should have to see. He felt broken, lost, terrified. Yet in all of it, he always felt optimistic. Hopeful that he would overcome all of this and maybe, just maybe, return back to his life before all of this.

But now, with everything that is happening to him?

He saw no point in anything anymore.

Tears fell from his face as Chuck's hands moved over his body. Yet as he fell further and further into his despair, he felt within in him a tingling sensation. It was a sensation that he had felt many times before. Whenever he was chased by his cousin Dudley, or when he feared punishment from his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. It always led to something special. Something - magical. Sure he was always punished for it afterward, but the results of it always made him desire for more. More peculiarity. More...magic.

This time the tingling sensation was stronger. Unstable, sure. But in his heart, he felt like it was a part of him and as a result, he felt as if he had a physical grasp on it. With the only thing in his mind being his pain, he threw the power in him at the source of it.

Screams made his eyes shoot open. To his pleasure, albeit with a bit of disgust, the eviscerated remains of Chuck laid splattered on the white cobblestone in front of him. Looking around, terrified demons fled from the scene, most of them abandoning the cameras that they were holding. Surprised, Harry looked for the source of Chuck's demise. Then he saw it.

A snake made of shadow was wrapped around his right arm, its jaws still crunching on Chuck's torso. Though it looked terrifying, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort around the snake. Despite seeing it for the first time, he felt as if the snake was an old friend he'd just been reunited with. Reaching a hand out to stroke it, he smiled as he watched the shadowy snake preen itself with his hand.

The plaza was empty now. All of the demons had fled from the scene out of terror. Soon the snake disappeared too; as it finished off the rest of Chuck and licked Harry's nose with its forked tongue before going.

As it dissipated in a cloud of smoke, Harry smiled sadly at the loss of his latest friend and wondered to himself:

'Now what?'

"THAT...WAS AWESOME!"

Harry quickly turned around to find the source of the noise but was surprised to see no one there.

"UP HERE!"

Looking up, he finally realized that the fountain he was pushed against before had a statue as its centerpiece.

And right on top of the statue was a red jackal-like creature wearing a black top. He was small, around the size of Harry himself. But what really stood out to Harry, however, were his eyes. Red pupils upon a black sclera.

 **Author's Notes: I think you guys know who that demon is. This chapter took me a long time to do, mostly because of my holiday and also because I found it very hard to describe a child getting raped. I abhor rape, especially if it is done to children. But sadly it is something that happens. Harry nearly getting raped was an intentional part of the story as...well... you never know who might meet in Hell. Still is hard to write though.**

 **Anyhow, I will be entering my first year of University soon so expect long waits between chapters. I will try to publish as much as I can though I won't guarantee a constant update. Still- I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I will see you later.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Safe Haven

 **I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter and Zoophobia canon. They are the rightful property of J.K Rowling and Vivienne Madrano respectively.**

Harry watched the jackal-like demon with suspicion as he leaped from the statue and landed right in front of him. Now that he had a closer look at the demon, Harry realized that it was, in fact, shorter than him by a small margin. That didn't stop the demon, however, as he enthusiastically grabbed Harry's hands into a friendly handshake.

"Name's Damian, But you already should know about me. What's your name?"

His over-eagerness put Harry off slightly, but he saw no harm in responding to the demon's question.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter. Sorry if this seems ignorant of me, but, what do you mean when you said I should already know who you are?"

The small demon, now called Damian, gasped in surprise and clutched his heart.

"What?! You've never heard of me? Oh, woe is me~" He exaggerated as he whipped out a torch and shone his face with it. Illuminated by the bright light, his face was twisted and marred with demonic features, his eyes shining an even brighter red and his teeth bared in rows of fangs, "IM. THE. ANTI-CHRIST!"

His face returned to normal as he burst into laughter at Harry's terrified face and the fact that Harry physically fell backward in shock.

"Christ - you should see the look on your face" he wiped a tear from his eyes, "This is better than the time I detonated a bomb in Hilda's sock drawers"

"Y-yo-you're" sputtered Harry. He couldn't stop shaking from fear. Despite the smaller demon's cheerful demeanor, he knew now that he was just as dangerous as the many other demons that populated Hell. He couldn't help but feel on guard with this demon, no matter how much he was attempting to break the ice.

"I-I-I," said Damian, mockingly imitating Harry's sputter, "Yeah, what about me?"

"You're the devil..."

"Nah I'm just the Anti-Christ" replied Damian nonchalantly though his expression shifted to annoyance when he looked at Harry's puzzled expression, "Hello? That means I'm the devil's son. Lucifer is the devil"

"But I thought the devil was called Satan," asked Harry and he reminisced back to what the missionary back in Privet Drive told him when they visited the school.

"Devil, Satan, Lucifer, The Fallen One" Damian counted them off his fingers, "All mean the same thing. But come on! Why are we talking about my boring dad here?! You should be more excited to be talking to me, the Anti-Christ!"

The look in Damian's eyes dared Harry to argue back, though that was something Harry wasn't stupid enough to fall for.

"Sure..." Harry replied unconvincingly. Didn't seem to upset Damian who merely grunted in approval.

"Good! Hey can you tell me how you did that thing before?!" asked Damian eagerly.

"The...what now?"

"You know! That thing with the snake!" said Damian excitedly. He started waving his arms around like a windmill, clearly trying to imitate whatever Harry was doing before. "It was so cool! Legit, I thought you were going to be screwed - then out of nowhere, this snake comes out of your arm and started biting that guy!"

"Uhm…I don't..."

"Then" continued Damian, clearly ignoring Harry's attempts to interrupt, "Freaking' hell It ripped the guy in half! God, blood everywhere~! So cool...!"

Ok. Harry felt extremely disturbed at how excited Damian said that. He said it with the biggest grin on his face, the kind you'd get from a child with new toys during Christmas or birthdays.

"The look of pain on his face was so hilarious. Sooo…how'd you do that?"

"I..." Harry turned away from Damian's expectant eyes and looked down at his right hand, the hand that sprouted the shadowy snake from before. He clenched it over and over again in hopes of replicating the feeling, only to be soundly disappointed when he couldn't feel the tingling feeling from before. "I...don't know. I can't seem to do it again..."

"Shame," said Damian as his large ears flattened. It quickly shot up however as he once again changed the topic, "So what did you do to get down here?"

Harry noticed now that this demon had a tendency to change the topic of the conversation randomly. Whether that be because of his excitement or the awkwardness of the conversation, Harry didn't know.

"Umm...I killed myself" He sighed as he saw Damian look at him with widened eyes. By now he was getting accustomed to seeing devil recoil in shock every time he told them that piece of information.

"Damn..." said Damian slowly, "What you do that for?"

"Abusive home" replied Harry bitterly, "My mom and dad died in a car crash so I was put with my Uncle and Aunt. They were..."

He trailed off as he thought of a word to describe them. Something not too harsh but not too light at the same time.

"Shitheads?" asked Damian helpfully.

...

Yeah. That will work.

"Yep" continued Harry, "They made me work on house chores till I nearly collapsed. Didn't feed me properly unlike my fat cousin, don't get me started on him. And for every little thing that went wrong? I got punished for it"

He felt tears form at the corner of his eyes, "It was always me. Oi boy, why is this not cleaned properly?! Oi boy, why did you plant the petunias properly?! Oi boy, why is there still mud on my fat shoes?!"

He didn't realize it, but by now, wisps of black smoke began trailing from his mouth. Damian clearly noticed, but he didn't tell Harry about it because he was intrigued by what it was and whether or not Harry could make more.

"Even things I didn't do - I was punished for it! Oh! Did little Duddies hurt his hand because he punched the 'freak'? Blame him! Did little Duddies fall on him fat arse chasing the 'freak'? Blame him!"

There was a resounding crack as Harry punched the base of the fountain, black wisps of smoke emulating from his fingers and the corners of his mouth. A loud ringing sound was echoing within his head, causing the fledgling deer demon to have a massive migraine. Among it all, dark thoughts began to infest his thoughts.

"Sometimes...I just wanted to take the goddamn kitchen knife and stab all of them!"

Yes. He could see it now. The coldness of their skin. The blankness in their eyes. The warm satisfaction in his heart as he would stab them over and over. He used to think that such thoughts were toxic - now he could think about how good it would feel had he actually done it.

"Okay…"

Harry blinked. Then turned his head to see Damian's interested expression. Following his red eyes, Harry was amazed to see the amount of black smoke trailing from his hands. Said hands were now tipped with long yellow nails and expanded to the size of a brick. Though he couldn't see them, Harry felt as if the horns on his skull had grown heavier and longer.

"Sorry..." He shook his head to wash out the pain, sighing in relief when he felt his hands and horns shrink back to their original size. "I...just don't know what came over me"

"Nah, it's cool," said Damian as he patted Harry's shoulder sympathetically, "I know that feeling. Take my dad for example - the guy's always trying to make me do things his way in his attempt to groom me as the next ruler of Hell. I know he loves me and all but he can just be so blind sometimes, I don't want to be the ruler of Hell - I mean look around you!"

He spread his tiny arms wide open to emphasize the scenes of chaos around them, "This place is so boring...! Nothing to do but hear people scream and study all day" he said with a low groan.

"Really?" Harry couldn't help but feel like he had to disagree with Damian on that. Especially with what nearly happened to him, "I find I rather not have more **fun** than I already am"

"Well good for you! Try being locked in your house with nothing to do but study about how **great** it is to look after a buncha low lives for the rest of your life!" snarled Damian dangerously as he levitated to level his face with Harry's, "Try being unable to leave because it's **too** dangerous to explore! Try being forced to study nothing but shit I don't want to learn! All for something I don't want to do!"

"Well, I'd rather have all of that than being forced to live in a cupboard for most of my life!"

Damian's eyes widened and his voice cut as he raised a hand in objection. When he spoke again, it was much more careful in its delivery.

"It was that bad huh?"

"Yeah..." replied Harry sadly as he felt tears at the corner of his eyes, "I still don't understand...I did everything they wanted. I cooked, I cleaned, I gave up my sanity for them. Yet they always looked at me as if I was the biggest scum on the earth... My cousin did nothing. Yet he was showered with everything; praise, toys, good food, love..."

Damian looked at him guiltily as he listened to Harry's words. He was feeling rather bad complaining about his upbringing when he could see that Harry was having it much worse. Comparing their situations, he would be surprised if Harry saw him a selfish brat.

"I couldn't...handle it. So I freed myself from the pain. Then coming here...seeing everything? I so confused...and scared" Harry was steadily sobbing now sitting by the base of the statue to cry. Damian looked at him with pity for a moment, before crouching down and pulling Harry into a hug.

"It's okay," said Damian in a soothing voice as Harry returned the hug, albeit much tighter, "Sorry for sounding like a brat before. I didn't bother to be more considerate, huh?"

"It's not your fault Damian" replied Harry in a choked voice, "You only know what you know...I didn't tell you it was that bad"

Eventually, Damian let go of Harry once he thought that he was better. The two them sat side by side against the base of the statue in silence, both of them unsure of what to say next.

Damian broke the silence moments later, "What are you doing now?" he asked.

"I...I'm looking for Satan"

"My dad?" Damian looked genuinely confused at that, wondering why on earth any demon would go looking for the feared ruler of Hell, "Why do you want to meet him?"

"I don't know" replied Harry grimly as he clutched his fist together in anxiety, "I'm guessing I want to ask him to leave"

"Leave? You mean Hell?"

"Yeah..."

"That is stupid!"

Harry's eyes widened as he turned to Damian's shift in tone. However, as he looked into the emotion behind Damian's eyes, he saw not the bold arrogance from before, but something close to worry and concern.

"How so?" asked Harry slowly.

"Demons are tied to Hell," said Damian "That's what my tutor, Daxler's, been telling me anyway. I think he said it was a contract between my dad and god to prevent demons from spilling to the surface world"

"Really?" Harry was dumbfounded. He had never really thought that the devil and god would be working together. "Does that mean I'm stuck here?"

"Now I never said that. Watch this" pointed out Damian as he picked up a pebble from the gravel and tossed it at the statue they were sitting underneath. As the two of them watched the pebble fly towards the statue, Harry expected it to bounce off the surface and land back onto the ground. So imagine his surprise when the tiny rock disappeared in the blink of an eye. As if it had just fallen out of existence.

"What...just happened?" Harry rubbed his eyes in case there was something wrong with them. One of the benefits of being resurrected as a demon, in Harry's opinion at least, was that he could now see again properly without his glasses. It took some adjusting to of course, but he would rather this than have to worry about constantly losing his glasses again.

"There are hundreds of portals around hell" explained Damian as he picked up a few more pebbles to toss into the portal. Each time he did, Harry noting a small flash of light and a spark of red fire before they disappeared, "This one is one of many that leads to a place my dad calls Safe Haven"

"Right, and why is it in the middle of the plaza?"

"Dunno" shrugged Damian "Most demon gangs use it to dispose of their enemies here. Just toss them in and you never have to see them again"

"Whys that? If there is a way to get out then why doesn't everyone use it to leave"

"Because you'll die" answered Damian simply, "Remember what I said about the contract? Well, whenever a demon tries to leave to the surface world they instantly get erased from the plane of existence. Its a countermeasure that dad and god agreed together"

"Then why have portals in the first place?!" Harry was so confused right now! Damian tells him there are portals yet no one can use it, then what in the world is the point of them in the first place?!

"Well...that I don't know...but..." Damian chuckled sheepishly as he scratched his head in embarrassment, "I do know my mom sometimes uses it to get ice cream from the supermarket. And my nanny uses them sometimes to go to her...parties"

"Look it may sound stupid, but ice cream is hard to get down here! I mean look at all this heat!" continued Damian when he noticed Harry's deadpanned expression, "Anyways this talk of portals is pretty cool isn't it?"

"Yeah...it is," said Harry slowly as he stared at the spot in which the pebbles disappeared. In his mind, he thought about his purpose down in hell. He wanted to find Satan and ask for a way out, instead of finding the "presumed" son of the devil who in turn told him of the way out right in front of him. Sure he had told Harry the dangers of entering the portal, yet compared to if he stayed in hell? This was a blessing in disguise.

"I'm going in," said Harry determinedly as he heard Damian gasp in the background.

"Are you stupid? Didn't you just hear what I told you before?"

"I did" replied Harry confidently, " And if I die trying to get up to the surface world than it's all the better. I'd rather be completely destroyed than spend another minute down in Hell. I hate it here!"

"You are insane," said Damian. However, as he looked at the confidence in Harry, he couldn't help but grin himself, "But I like that about you. Alright - we should get going"

"Excuse me - **we**?"

"Yes - we"emphasized Damian as he stood up with Harry and brushed the dirt from his legs, "You didn't think I was going to let you just wander off onto the surface world without me, did you? It is by luck I was able to sneak out of the house today. I'm not turning down this opportunity in a million years"

"Doesn't this contradict everything you just told me? What about you, won't you get erased"

"Nope, not if I have this," said Damian as he pulled out a red crystal attached to a smooth, deep black surface that connected to a chain around his neck, "This stone, if worn by demons, allows them to traverse the surface world without getting erased. As long as it's around their necks of course"

"Do you have more?"

"Nah this is my only one. But I think my dad may have more - though it is not something he hands out for free regularly"

"You sure about this?" grimaced Damian as he looked over to where the portal was disguised, "You don't have to do this. I mean...life down here isn't that bad. Boring yes, but not that bad"

"No - I'm sure" Harry breathed in and out to calm him before stepping in front of the portal with Damian by his side.

"Hey!" Damian clamped Harry's shoulder. "If I meet you up, let's go get ice cream. I'll pay"

Harry smirked. Taking one last look at the hellish landscape around him, he sure was glad to be getting out of it. "That's the best idea I ever heard"

Smiling joyfully at one another, the two juvenile demons stepped through the portal. A flash of light and the burst of a small flame later, and the two completely disappeared off the face of Hell's surface.

* * *

Traveling through the portal wasn't as painful as falling through Hell, Harry thought. Rather it was like walking through a really long hallway with red walls. Damian had disappeared from his side, leaving him all on his lonesome as he continued walking. As he kept walking and walking, he reached out and tried to feel any sort of pain that Damian said he would feel due to his connection to Hell.

Nothing. Not a single jolt of pain or any tingling sensation. Was Damian lying just to scare Harry for fun? The possibility was there, after all, he saw Damian brush off the clown demon's death as if it was nothing. Scaring Harry just for fun is something pretty up the jackal demon's alley.

Eventually, the narrow hallway came to an end, and a rift laid there. Looking behind him to see if there was a way to go backwards, Harry was surprised to see the walls slowly break apart, shattering into miniature pieces and floating off into the oblivion. Noticing that the cracks were getting closer and closer to his feet, Harry quickly jumped through the rift - only to land on soft green grass.

It felt...wonderful.

The gentle touch of the breeze, the light sheen of wet grass on his shoes. And that pleasant smell of pine leaves and fresh air. It all felt really good, Harry thought to himself. He had arrived in some sort of forest. One with towering brown trees topped with bundles of green leaves.

He never really appreciated the world for what it was. Never stopped to take in the simple beauty that laid around him. He had too much pain on his mind, too much fear, too much anger, too much...sadness. He never thought clean air, rain, and the wind had any significant value. They were just that. Things. But only when he no longer felt them did he truly feel intoxicated when he could once more indulge in them.

Harry took a deep breath in. Truly, it was a magnificent feeling. One that warmed his insides, all the way to his toes.

A large cracking sound came from behind him and he turned around to have a look at what it was. A large red portal rippled through the air, like a tear in the middle of the green pasture in which it stood. Eventually, the small figure of Damian emerged from within it.

His eyes widened in shock as he noticed Harry looking at him from near the trees.

"No way...you're unscripted" he muttered.

"What was that?" asked Harry. He really needed to figure out how these new ears of his worked. One moment they pick up every sound in the area, the next he couldn't hear the closest things next to him.

"Nothing, nothing" Damian grinned as he walked over to Harry and clapped him on the shoulder, "Well I'm a man of my word. Let's go get ice cream"

"Don't think there are any ice cream parlors around here" said Harry as he looked around the clearing in which they both stood.

"No, but there are some in Safe Haven," said Damian as he pointed to a small wooden sign that stood conveniently next to a cobblestone path Harry didn't notice before. This same cobblestone pathway leads deeper and deeper into the forest.

"Of course...the sign" sighed Harry as he and Damian began walking down the path. Trees soon surrounded the both of them as they conversed with one another while walking, "Tell more about yourself. You already know a lot about me yet I feel like I don't know enough about you"

"Well...you know I'm the son of the devil. I guess you must be wondering why I'm a jackal of all things"

"Hmm...that is true I did think about that when we first met"

"It's because of my mom," said Damian, "She's a jackal by blood"

"Wait, so the devil married an animal?"

"Nooo...not like that" shrieked Damian as he rubbed his head, "Now I can't get the image out of my head! No, my mom is what you call..., Anthropomorphic?"

"Sounds complicated"

"Not really, think of it as an animal that walks on two feet and can talk like regular people"

"But if your mom is Anthro-pro-morphic, sorry - hard to pronounce, then how does she walk into Safe Haven and buy ice cream? Wouldn't people panic at the sight of walking and talking animal-ladies"

"Actually my mom tells me that Safe Haven is meant to some sort of refuge for people like her," said Damian as he hopped over a small stream. Harry followed suit, "It's also open to other people. Werewolves-"

"Wait there are werewolves!" asked a surprised Harry.

"Of course there is. You don't think so?"

"From where I come from, werewolves are thought to only be mythical creatures found in fairy tales"

"Stupid" Damian shook his head in pity.

"Sooo...do vampires exist?"

"Yep"

"Unicorns?!"

"Yep"

"ALIENS?!"

"Aliens don't exist"

"Oh...I knew that" Harry blushed as Damian looked at him funny. "Please continue your story."

"Anyways..." continued Damian, "My mom comes from Safe Haven. In short, dad was bored in Hell so he came up to the surface world and met my mom. He married her and then they had me"

"That was it?"

"Yep, what were you expecting?"

"Something more dramatic" answered Harry honestly, "I mean...its not every day that you know that the devil is married and that he has a family"

"What if I told you she killed herself to join him in Hell"

…

"Okay, now that was dramatic" Damian merely chuckled as he heard Harry's response.

"I try my best. Now shut up, I think we're here"

In the distance, Harry and Damian could hear faint sounds, some of which Harry could recognize. An engine of a car here and there, loud music playing in the background, and the sound of voices. Soon the pathway reached to top of a small hill and it was from there that Harry and Damian had a view of it.

It was gorgeous. No other way to describe it.

Skyscrapers as tall as the eyes could see stood tall and vibrant in the middle of a vast green field. All around the skyscrapers were buildings shaped in varying sizes and forms - some of them houses, some of them businesses. A common trait that was seen with all the buildings was their unique architectural design. No single house was the same as any other, a welcome addition for Harry who had always seen the same house design no matter where he was in Privet Drive. Some houses had classical designs, some more modern and contemporary designs. In addition, each building was painted in different coats of paint - that when put ll together, made the entire city feel alive with life.

"Mum must have really loved Dad to want to leave this place," said Damian. Harry noticed that Damian was looking extremely entranced by the colors of the buildings.

Harry couldn't agree more.

Another thing that he couldn't agree more was how strange the people of the city were. Well...if you could call them 'human' people.

As the two of them got closer and closer to the city, the pathway that they walked together was soon filled with other creatures. Creatures that Harry thought could have never existed before. There were anthropomorphic dogs, cats and all sorts of animals talking to one another, people with animal features like Harry, a talking, brown fox that was currently conversing with a pink-haired girl. In the distance, Harry could see birds the size of a full-sized human land on the ground and morph into humanoids with avian features.

There were, of course, humans. But they were small in numbers and Harry only ever saw one or two amongst the sea of creatures.

"This looks like a good place," said Damian as he pointed to a small establishment sitting comfortably on the side of the pathway called _Hector's._ The building was small, with a green roof and blue tinted windows in the shapes of circles. A few white tables topped with a red and yellow umbrella stood on the outside of the café in which two customers, a pink werewolf girl, and a white terrier, were seated sharing a drink between the two of them.

Nodding to Damian in response the two boys opened the building's red wooden door and proceeded inside. However as Harry was just entering, he noticed the two customers outside were giving the two them funny looks, especially the white terrier who had the straw from his drink hanging from his mouth because his jaw had dropped so low. Harry had a bad feeling but kept it down as he instead focused on looking forward to the ice cream.

The inside of the café gave off the feeling of a warm home. Instead of normal chairs, armchairs and sofas littered the shop, giving the customers comfortable seats to sit in as they enjoyed the menu. A small fire crackled in the back, much more tame and nice compared to the wild flames from Hell in Harry's opinion. Attached to the walls were pictures, pictures of a family consisting of a male anthropomorphic crocodile with a female anthropomorphic lizard and a small anthropomorphic lizard girl seated in-between them. These figures were smiling, smiling from many places in which they were taken, a lake in the background, sometimes an amusement park, the marketplace. It really felt nice, Harry thought, to see pictures of the family as they should be. Together.

The Dursley's had pictures as much as the owners of this shop, yet theirs's was always about Dudley. A picture of Dudley as a baby, a kid, at the zoo, at the food festival, at school.

It was always about Dudley. Sure Harry had accepted that he wouldn't be in any - but to see not even his aunt and uncle in the pictures with their son?

I was sad in Harry's opinion. He can only shudder to think of what Dudley might treat his parents with an inflated ego like that.

"Hullo~! What can I get you?"

Harry peeled his eyes away to look over at the counter. Standing behind the cake filled counter was a young lizard girl, around the age of ten. She was pink and yellow in color, with ruby-like eyes. She also wore a staff uniform, complete with a tiny cap, whose tag stated that her name was Hestia. This was, of course, the young girl in the picture.

"Hmm...do you have ice cream?" asked Damian thoughtfully. Hestia showed them over to an ice cream machine which displayed rows upon rows of ice cream flavors lined up.

"Take your pick. One scoop is three dollars, two is four dollars"

"Can I get more than two?"

"Of course, we'll just calculate it from the number of scoops you get"

Damian and Harry stared at the display. So many flavors! There were, of course, the ones he knew such as vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. Then there were the ones he'd never seen before such as red velvet, bubble gum, mint and...red wine?

"I want the whiskey," said Damian as he pointed to an amber looking one, "Make it three scoops"

"I'm sorry but we have a policy against selling alcohol- based ice cream to minors" She smiled as Damian's ears flattened.

"Oh poop. Though I could get away with that...I'll have chocolate, double chocolate, rocky road and white chocolate, One scoop of each" listed as Damian as Hestia wrote all of it down on a slip of paper.

"Of course sir. And you?"

She and Damian turned over to Harry who was still staring at the display case.

"Harry...?" asked Damian worriedly. Harry realized that he was dazed by the fact that he was allowed to pick whatever flavor he wanted.

"Huh? Oh sorry, it's just...I never got to pick anything that I wanted before"

"Wow that is sad..." said Damian sympathetically as Hestia nodded in the background, "Don't worry! With me, you can have anything you want"

"Mmm..." hummed Harry softly as his eyes once again returned to that white flavor he was staring at before. Slowly he lifted a finger and pointed at it. "I'll have vanilla...just one scoop"

"Make it four - like me," said Damian as he forked the cash over to Hestia who dispensed it in the cash register and went to scoop their ice cream.

"But I-" Harry was cut off from protesting as Damian raised a finger and stopped his lips with it.

"Didn't I just say you can have anything?" he asked Harry slowly. As he let go of Harry's mouth, Harry couldn't feel anything but immense gratitude.

"Thank you..." said Harry softly. Damian just nodded in response.

Hestia finally returned with their ice creams, both displayed in clear plastic cups and decorated with colorful umbrellas on the top. As the two of them left the counter to go sit at one of the tables, Damian's expression frowned as he counted the bills that Hestia had give back to him as change.

"Hey, why did you only charge the price of four scoops and one scoops? I thought I bought two four scoops" asked Damian. Hestia merely whistled as she looked away from him. Totally not suspicious at all.

"Well...I overheard your conversation and I couldn't bear to charge you the original price. I'll charge you based on what he originally said"

"Won't you get in trouble?" Hestia shrugged at Damian's question.

"Father always said to help people in need," said Hestia simply, "Besides... it's not like you would tell on me, now would you~?"

Harry laughed into his ice cream as Damian's face lit up as she touched his lips with her fingers. Though he was quickly surprised as Damian bounced back and slipped two notes into the breast pocket on her uniform.

"Of course not, of course not"

Damian promptly returned to his seat and continued his ice cream with Harry, who was now about halfway done. As the two of them ate together, they talked about their interests and lifestyles. Harry found out that Damian had a passion for playing the banjo, something that his father greatly disapproved. He also learned that Damian lived with more than just his parents; he had a nanny named Tentadora, a former demon army officer called Major Styx, a caretaker called Hilda, and four other children like him made up of three hell spirit sisters and a boy around his age the name of Bosswick.

"I guess being the son of Hell has some benefits," said Damian as he twirled his ice cream spoon around his finger for fun. Harry was busy scrapping the last of the ice cream off the walls of his cup, so he just hummed in response.

The two them were just about finished and were about to leave the building when the door slammed open, shocking everyone inside. A white cat and a human male entered the café through the broken door.

"HELLO SINNERS!" yelled the white cat as he leered at each of them with creepy yellow eyes, "Have any of you read the holy book yet?!"

The human male held up a heavily decorated scripture of the holy bible, waving around in each of their faces. As the book swayed near Harry's face, he couldn't help but feel extremely nauseated. It was as if the book was spiting him, taunting him and enraging him. Yet years of being abused by the Dursley's made him an expert on keeping his anger in check, so he was able to push it all down.

Whether or not Damian could, was another question. Harry looked over to his side and saw that Damian was sitting up extremely tense as the man and cat continued to ramble on. His fur stood on their ends and his tail wagged back and forth uncomfortably. But he was staying still and that was something that Harry believed was good.

"Please stop sirs!" Hestia jumped into the front of Harry and Damian when she noticed the way the both of them would flinch when the man shoved the book in their faces, "Can't you see they're uncomfortable with what you are doing?!"

"A snake!" the white cat pointed directly in front of her face as if condescending her, "Your mere existence is a sacrament to the will of God! Your people incurred the first sin and the suffering of the world is your sin to repent"

"Oi, leave her alone!" shot back Damian as Hestia began tearing up. Harry also left his seat with Damian, though he stood to the outside looking on awkwardly as Damian took the brunt of both the fanatic preacher's glares. "Besides have you looked in the mirror yourself lately? Maybe you should take a good long look before you insult other people about your own faults!"

"You dare spite a servant of the lord!" The cat practically seethed as Damian laughed back cruelly.

"Yes, I do. If Heaven is full of pricks like you then you know what? - Fuck Heaven!"

He flipped the bird at both of the preachers, the cat of which had a murderous look on his face while the human stared at both Harry and Damian with a calculating look.

"You're a demon," he said quietly. "You have the mark on your forehead"

Harry quickly spun around to face Damian, who currently had a red cross of Saint Peter of his forehead as if someone had recently branded it with a hot iron. Feeling up, Harry panicked as he too could feel the searing outline of the mark. How had he missed that when he first turned into a demon, he had no idea.

"Blasphemy! Filthy demon!" The white cat pulled out a golden crucifix from within his robes and flashed it at both Harry and Damian, "Back to hell you filthy monsters!"

The mere sight of the cross caused an immediate migraine in Harry. He fell to his knees clutching his head in pain. Damian also had a reaction similar to that of Harry, though his eyes flashed dangerously at the two preachers.

"SHUT UP!"

Hestia screamed as Damian began transforming before all of their eyes. From his back sprouted black tendrils, elevating him as the tendrils planted themselves to the ground. Horns sprouted from his head and his two large ears curled themselves into the shape of horns. His teeth bared and his claws extended in size, he really did look like a demon fitting of his title as Son of the Devil.

"GET BACK LEESON!" The stoic male pushed his white cat companion out of the door and pulled out a silver knife from the innards of his sleeve, just in time to block one of Damian's tendrils from impaling his head. With skill akin to that of a professional, he began blocking each and every one of Damian's attacks with his tiny knife. Eventually, however, he missed one of the tentacles, causing it to hit him straight in the stomach and fly out of the window.

"Get back here!" said Damian in a sinister voice as he crawled through the smashed window with the help of his tentacles. Harry got up slowly as the pain his head was gone, along with the mark. Glancing at the sobbing figure of Hestia, Harry muttered a quick sorry before scrambling out of the door to find his demonic friend.

The outside was pandemonium. Cars were upturned, people were running around screaming, and in the middle of all the destruction was Damian and the stoic male dueling with one another. Sparks ricocheted off of the man's blade as he parried and blocked Damian's relentless onslaught.

"GOT YOU!" Harry got what felt like boiling water splashed in his face, courtesy of Leeson who was currently clutching a bottle of holy water.

It was so painful, just as painful as the first time he entered Hell, painful as nearly getting raped, painful as staring at the crucifix from before. Yet this time, the feeling he had felt at the plaza returned to him. It was still unstable sure, but experience had taught Harry that this is not something he needs to control in a situation where his enemy was right in front of him.

Throwing his arms out, he saw Leeson get thrown back by some unknown force, smashing through another one of the cafe's windows. Harry was determined to not let this power dissipate just as before, so he concentrates all of his strength into condensing the power into his fist.

Looking over at Damian to distract himself from the pain of holding it in, he sighed with relief as the body of the man fell from Damian's tentacles. Obviously, the man was still breathing, as evident by the rising and falling of his chest. Damian turned tiredly over to Harry and grinned cheekily at him. Harry couldn't help himself but smile back.

Their joy would be short-lived, however.

A distant sound of a phut was picked up by Harry's ears, though it did little to stop the dart from piercing his neck. The dart must have had some toxin in it because Harry felt his eyelids begin to droop in exhaustion.

In the background Damian screamed in pain as a claw grabbed him by the neck, draining all of Damian's powers and causing him to fall from the sky and onto the ground in his previous form.

"STAND. DOWN. DEMONS" A voice projected by a microphone rang out through the air. Its source? A black and white creature with red and blue eyes that flashed back and forth like the lights on a police car. The creature was holding a dart gun in his other hand, clearly, the weapon that had hit Harry. He also had a friend with him, completely the same in appearance and holding the end of the stick that currently had Damian in its grasp.

The two of them slowly approached the incapacitated demons. The one holding the stick nodded to his friend who then turned to aim his gun at Damian.

Seeing that his friend had no way to defend himself, Harry threw what force he had in his hands straight at the creature holding the gun, causing him to also go flying as Leeson had before. He ricocheted off the side of a pole and landed face down on the dirt, not getting back up.

"You bastard!" The one holding the stick let Damian go and proceeded over to Harry with an extendable baton, anger emulating from his face. Harry looked up weakly at the creature as he raised the baton high above his head, and closed his eyes in acceptance of what was going to happen to him.

Yet nothing happened. There was no pain and there was no sound. Peeking out of his closed eyes, he could finally see why.

The creature with the baton was frozen, staring in fear at a black and red mass rising from the ground. Damian must have known what it was too because Harry heard him mutter, "Oh shit" underneath his breath.

Eventually, the black and red mass formed a shape, one that was rather similar to a certain friend of Harry who looked like a jackal. The figure had four horns sprouting from its head, two short ones and two long ones that flashed rather dangerously. Its eyes were as dark as Damian's with lips bloodied and puffy. What came next terrified every single person present.

The figure opened its mouth, as if screaming into the air, and a thunderous voice rang out.

 **"DAMIAN. HOME** **.NOW!"**

Its open mouth then formed golden staircases as it placed itself in front of Damian and Harry.

For a moment no one moved. Then Damian slowly got up and walked over to Harry.

"Come on. Let us go..." He sounded dejected as if all the fight within him was gone. Harry knew better than to argue at the moment and pulled himself up with the help of Damian's open hand.

As the two of them entered the mouth and walked up the stairs, Harry made one last look at the city of Safe Haven. The beauty that he had seen before was gone, marred by burning buildings, uprooted trees, and wrecked park benches. The people of Safe Haven observed them with a variety of expressions. Fear such as Leeson, Sadness such as Hestia who was looking at them from the broken windows of the café, and hatred such as the werewolf girl and her white terrier boyfriend.

Harry felt a great sense of guilt as the mouth closed and started taking them back to Hell. He can only imagine what was going to happen next.

* * *

Within the office of Albus Dumbledore and atop his desk stood a book and a quill. These were ancient artifacts whose history has been lost to time, yet their purpose remains the same all throughout the centuries. The Quill of Acceptance would detect the smallest trance of magic within a child, and attempt to place said child's name into the Book of Admission, who would then determine if the child was to be admitted into the prestigious school of magic known as Hogwarts. While the quill is rather lax in its standards, it is ultimately up to the book to make the final decision, a trait that has shattered the ego of many squibs who thought they were magical.

Albus Dumbledore had opened the book last night, pouring into the names of children to be accepted in 2011. He had a small sense of sadness that Harry Potter's name would never be written into the book, resulting in him to have another breakdown and sleeping early. He had completely forgotten to return the book and the quill to their original places.

So under the dim glow of candlelight, the quill left its inkpot and attempted to scribble a name into the book. The book laid there with no resistance at all, obviously accepting what it deemed as an acceptable level of magic and allowing the quill to go to work.

As it finished off the name, the quill returned to the inkpot in which it came, unaware that its decision would spark one of the greatest unexplained mysteries of the British Wizarding World for the next three years - and restore the hope of a shattered people.

But what was the name that was written down?

If you squint under the name Sally-Anne Perks you can see it as clear as day in silver ink.

Harry Potter.

 **Author Notes: Sorry for the almost one month wait but University life has not been kind to me. Just a few weeks in and already I have quizzes each week and at least four assignments coming up. It is a miracle that I was able to put this chapter out. However, on a more positive note, this has been my longest chapter yet and I'm quite proud of it. If there are any problems with getting Damian's character right please tell me. Constructive criticism is always essential in writing after all. Other than that, Cheerios~!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter and Zoophobia canon. They are the rightful property of J.K Rowling and Vivienne Madrano respectively.**

 **I dedicate this chapter to my grandpa (1926-2019). God bless your soul.**

 **Chapter 7: Harry in Hell III**

When Harry first saw the devil he was rightly confused as to how Damian could in any ways be his son. With a towering figure clothed in black robes, eight horns jutting out of his skull menacingly at varying lengths, large claws tipped with razor-sharp red nails, and a scarlet jaw that looked like it was bathed in an open yellow flame; it wasn't hard not to be confused.

Then when he had a closer look...that was when he could see some resemblance, mainly the red eyes that would flare up and glow whenever he got angry.

Damian's mother, on the other hand, was less devilish looking than her husband and bore the closest resemblance to Damian in appearance. Like Damian, she was jackal-like, draped in what looked like a black and red shawl embroiled with symbols and markings. Across her neck was a black-pearled necklace with a cross of St Peter inlaid with a ruby in the middle and atop her head was an evil-looking crown made of some unknown black metal. In Harry's opinion, the woman was obviously very beautiful, had it not been for her expression. Cold disapproval radiated from her eyes as she stared at both Harry and Damian.

They were currently in the throne room.

The throne room, surprisingly, was rather modest for someone with the amount of infamy as the devil. What Harry thought was going to be a throne made of bones and skulls turned out to be a simple couch that separated into two colors, as if the designer had spilt a line between the middle. One side was a nightmarish black and was where Damian's father sat, while the other side was a light red and was where Damian's mother sat. The décor around them wasn't fancy, rather it was depressingly as it merely composed of black and red curtains that hung from the walls. In addition to the strange throne and the drab curtains, two guards flanked the king and queen's side. One was a small horse, ashen in color with cruel-looking bone appendages underneath its ribcage and over its face. The other, strange enough, was a regular looking human who looked rather out of place amongst all the demons. He wore what could only be described as an 18th-century frontiersmen outfit, complete with a wide-hat with a white feather in it, and a musket in his arms. Both wore matching black collars with red stones inlaid in the middle, and both stood with apathetic expressions on either side of the two demons on the couch.

 **"You may go Styx..."** said the Devil in a low tone, reminiscent to that of someone speaking with thunder in the background, **"This is a matter for me and my son"**

The blue-furred demon called Styx, who escorted the boys into the throne room bowed lowly before walking out of the door with a fearful expression on his face. Harry wondered to himself what was going to happen to the two them if the Devil was able to command this much fear into one of his Heads of Staff.

 **"You disobeyed me, Damian"**

"Dad...I.."

 **"SILENCE!"**

Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in shock. The force from that shout had shaken the entire room and left Harry's senses in complete shambles. Damian fared no better, looking visibly distressed as he quickly shut his mouth.

 **"YOU SNUCK OUT OF THE PALACE AND WANDERED RIGHT INTO THE NORTH-WESTERN PENTAGRAM!"**

"I..."

 **"YOU LEFT HELL AND WALKED RIGHT ONTO THE SURFACE WORLD!"**

"But dad..."

 **" AND YOU INSULTED HEAVEN AND STARTED A STREET WAR WITH THE CHURCH AND THE ZPA!"**

"DAD PLEASE!"

The devil stopped his rampage and glared at Damian as if he was challenging him to raise his voice again. Harry had to give Damian credit for not faltering under his father's scrutinizing gaze.

"I'm sorry..." sobbed Damian as tears streamed from his eyes. "I'm honestly sorry, dad. I didn't mean to make you angry"

 **"Your apology does nothing to make up for the consequences of your actions"** replied the Devil briskly as he snapped his clawed fingers. The horse demon stepped forward and presented a glass orb filled with white mist to his master. As he stepped back, Satan raised the orb up so that Harry and Damian could have a closer look, **"But since you constantly refuse to believe me when I said the outside world is dangerous, then perhaps you should see it for yourselves"**

The mist within the orb dissipated and images soon began to fill the orb, the same way television would broadcast a program. Harry and Damian's stomach dropped when they recognized the scene that was being played out.

It was the central plaza where they entered the portal. Except it looked nothing like the plaza they had left. The statue had been defiled, its face smashed in with a chisel and its base blown apart by grenades and bullets. Bodies surrounded the statue, many of them sporting gunshot wounds, blade wounds, and concussive wounds. Just in the far distance, Harry could see demons, not the same as the ones he saw in the alleyway but similar enough in design, hack at one another with machetes.

 **"You walked straight into the North-Western Pentagram,"** said the Devil, **"Right into the territory of gangs. Right into the middle of an open war between radical homosexuals and the Chinese mafia. Do you have anything to say about that? About the amount of danger that you just barely missed?!"**

"I...I..."

 **"Then..."** continued the Devil as if he hadn't asked his son anything in the first place, **"You waddled right into Safe Haven"**

The Orb once again misted up and then revealed new images. This time it was a scene that both Damian and Harry felt guilty just looking at. It was the shop in which they met Hestia, though it looked extremely damaged if one could tell by the smashed up windows and the upturned furniture. In the distance, Harry could see the blinking lights of police cars and ambulances, further reinforced when he saw Leeson, the stoic priest and one of the black and white police creature from before, get loaded up into an ambulance, their bodies hooked up with machines and blood bags. Harry could help but feel some sick pleasure from seeing Leeson wounded though he had to admit seeing Hestia holding onto what looked like her crying parents made him feel really bad for them. He hoped that they were okay.

"Hey, now that wasn't our fault!" protested Damian to which the Devil merely snorted.

 **"Did you think the ZPA believed that?"** asked the Devil, **"In their view, the church did nothing but play their 'civic' duty by attempting to purge you. Though I have to admit, a commendable job on fighting the church"**

The devil slowly clapped although Damian couldn't find it within himself to feel proud of the destruction he wrought.

 **"I do not know what your mother told you"** His wife rolled her eyes at her husband's words, **"But ironic to its name, Safe Haven is no place for demons such as ourselves. They regard us as dark creatures and the only reason your mother can go, is because they knew her, and they have a long-standing trust with her. You, on the other hand, are simply another demon to extinguish in their eyes."**

 **"You could have died many times over,"** The devil rose from his side of the couch and walked over, towering over the both of them, "Y **ou disobeyed me, and for that, you will be punished. The only question that remains is how I am to punish you. Should I lock you with a curfew? Increase the palace guards?"**

Damian was more than sobbing now, he was crying. For most of his life, he had argued with his father on numerous occasions. Sometimes over small things, sometimes over big things. But this was the first time that his father was genuinely furious at him and was seriously considering following through with his threats. It made him guilty with himself and scared of the prospect of what was going to happen to him.

Harry could only watch from the sidelines sympathetically. He knows that experience of being locked up and having no freedom to choose anything for himself too well. He was raised in a cupboard under a staircase for god's sake! Still, Harry felt that it was all wrong. Wrong for the devil to lock his own son up just for trying to sample some small sense of freedom.

Hadn't Damian help Harry return to the surface world? To help him sample life once again? To forget about the depravity and pain he experienced in Hell?

And now Damian was taking the full brunt of the blame. Harry knew he couldn't let that happen. Not when he felt that he owned Damian that much.

"I think you're being too tough on him," said Harry slowly. The entire room fell silent as all of the attention was directed at Harry. Damian looked at Harry with relief while his parents looked at Harry curiously.

 **"You were with my son..."** muttered the devil as he stroked his chin. **"What is your name?"**

"Harry...Harry Potter" Harry recoiled in fear a little as he saw a muscle twitch on the devil's forehead. The devil turned away from his son and instead towered over Harry, making him feel extremely insignificant as he compared their heights.

 **"When you speak...you WILL ADDRESS ME AS SIR?!"** his voice thundered the across the room, vibrating across the walls and shaking some of the windows. All the bravado Harry had before when he spoke out against the devil was quickly snuffed out as he fell to his knees in a bow. No matter how hard he tried to get back up, his legs refused to move- it was as if his legs were glued to the floor.

"I...I'm...s-sorry...SIR!" Harry was able to choke out those words, pretty badly too, though it seemed enough to appease the devil as the aura quickly left the room, allowing everyone to breathe again and Harry specifically to feel his legs again.

 **"Typical youngsters"** scoffed the devil as he glared at Harry with those terrifying red eyes, **"I saw you in the orb. You left hell with my son through the portal. Defended him from the church and the ZPA. I would usually award those that protect my son, yet..."**

He stared at Harry again with the same intensity as before. To Harry, he felt as if the devil was staring directly into his soul.

 **"I can't help but question how you got out of hell. I never gave you a Pass stone...unless..."** He looked at Harry again, before his eyes shot open in realization and he shifted his body weight. Harry didn't understand what was happening, but everyone around him sure did base on their expressions, especially Damian whose eyes shot open with fear and dread.

There was a large rasping sound. Where it came from Harry didn't know, but he definitely felt the gush of wind that followed it, causing him to shut his eyes due to the dirt granules flying at him.

When he reopened them Harry was confused to as why Damian was standing in front of him. Then he looked up, only to gasp at what he saw.

It was a massive sword made of some unknown red metal. Cruel in design with its hilt and blade topped with spikes, red veins snaking across its metallic surface, easily the size of a long sword. Harry both wondered and feared how the devil was able to wield such a large weapon with only one hand. The devil was now wearing some kind of armor hidden underneath his black cloak. If you were to blend a medieval knight's armor with a ridiculous amount of spikes and chains, that greatly showed off his bulky physique.

It had seemed that the devil had just tried to slice Harry in half with his sword, something he would have been successful in if his Damian hadn't jumped in front of Harry. Even then the sword was mere inches away from Damian's eyes.

 **"Son...move,"** said the devil as he pulled his sword away from his son's head and brought it up again to strike.

"Dad...please...he's my friend" whimpered Damian.

 **"You know we have laws boy, for a reason"**

"I promise dad...please...he won't do anything"

 **"He is unscripted. A danger to hell. He must be eliminated"**

"HE'S NOT A DANGER!"

" **YES HE IS! NOW MOVE! THAT IS AN ORDER!"**

Everyone around them held their breaths as the devil and his son continued their shouting match, both of them showing off their demonic features as they further agitated each other.

 **"YOU HAVE-"** the devil stopped his speech as a slender arm snaked underneath his chin and touched him gently on the lips. Turning his annoyed eyes over to his side, he was greeted with the calm and collected face of his wife who has now left her side of the couch.

 **"Lucifer, darling"** the way she spoke mystified Harry as he saw both the devil and Damian's anger seemingly wither away at her gaze. It wasn't even a stern gaze, yet it carried with it so much influence, power, and respect despite it being just a look of indifference. **"Perhaps you should let me do the talking"**

 **"Narissa dear, I..."** Lucifer stopped as he faltered underneath her gaze, causing him to sheathed his sword and returned to his throne/couch with a sigh.

 **"You too, Damian"** Damian scampered from away from Harry and went over to a pink-haired woman standing at the back of the room who quickly comforted him her arms.

 **"You said your name was Harry?"** Harry's attention was pulled away from Damian and the pinked-haired lady, and back towards Narissa, **"You are the one that caused our gatekeeper Bob so much trouble this morning, didn't you? You must have felt so confused. So lost. So..bewildered to end up in Hell. Isn't it fascinating that all your life you are pampered to be aware of what happens after death by the church, yet so many still deny it? Even the ones that call themselves 'devoted' worshippers have some form of denial as they near the end. You...I have to ask...how? "**

"I...I b-beg your pardon? How, what?"

 **"How did it happen?"** asked Narrissa again as she stroked her chin, **"You are young...too young to be precise. Younger than my son by at least a year. Most children that die your age are sent to Heaven regardless of the minor sins they've committed. So why is it that you are here? What sick crime did you commit?"**

"I didn't commit anything!" protested Harry, though the demon lady quickly waved it off as her guards stepped forward.

 **"And I am inclined to believe you. You quite innocent, polite, and in no ways do I see you are capable of committing atrocious acts to warrant a place in Hell"** Said Narissa slowly, **"So I will ask again. How you did die?"**

Harry chewed his lips as he felt the pressure from all the demons in the room close around him. Everyone had turned their eyes towards him, from the woman in front of him, her husband sitting behind her, the two guards, and even the pink-haired lady behind him craned forwards to listen. The only one who didn't seem to pressure him was Damian, who had already listened to his story and was now quietly pleading with the pink-haired woman to stop looking at him.

"I...I" Harry felt his voice choked up as he once more looked up at the woman in front of him. While her expression was incredibly cold, the sheer apathy in her eyes completely terrified him and prevented him from properly speaking. The best that he could do was force out a few squeaky words. "I...I...d-did...i-it...to myself"

His head collapsed as fear completely took over him and he bowed his head to her. Narissa just stared down at his shaking body before sighing. **"So it was suicide. Not what I expected. Quite shocking...to be honest"**

At her words, Harry lifted his head and looked at her. Contrary to what she said, her face didn't even seem to fit the words that came out of her mouth. She just continued to stare down at him with that vague expression of indifference. Feeling that he should be saying something more, Harry opened his mouth once again to speak, only halting when she held her hand up instead.

 **"I'm not interested in why you did it,"** she said briskly, **"But matter not...if whatever drove you to kill yourself was a mortal, then reassured that when they enter hell, their torture will be exceedingly painful"**

"NO!" Harry shouted as panic flooded his body. His outburst shocked most of those in the throne room, except for the devil and his wife who just raised eyebrows in interest. Realizing his outburst might warrant more punishment from the rulers of Hell, Harry quickly shut his mouth and averted his gaze from the two royals.

 **"Speak child. We will not hurt you"** This time as he looked back up, he saw a little more emotion in her eyes. It wasn't warmth, nor was it sincere, but it gave him the confidence to swallow his fear and speak slowly.

"P-please don't hurt my U-uncle, A-aunt and cousin" Harry squeaked softly. He may have loathed living with them, hate them at particular times of his life. But even he wasn't as cruel as to condemn them to a life of eternal torture. "I k-know they did things to me. H-h-horrible things. But j-just don't...please"

 **"You defend them?!"** This time it wasn't Narissa that spoke, but rather Lucifer from his couch/throne. **"Even though they drove you to suicide?"**

Under the devil's scrutinizing gaze, Harry could find the courage to continue speaking, instead opting to nod his head instead.

 **"Interesting"** muttered Narissa as she continued to examine Harry, **"I need one more piece of information. Gamigin, bring me the orb"**

The horse demon from before stepped forwards once again and presented the orb of mist to his mistress. As she took it from his hooves (hands?), she muttered a few words in a language that Harry couldn't understand, repeatably drawing hellish sigmas on the orb with her long fingers. Eventually, the orb hovered from her hands and expelled the mist that it contained, covering most of the ceiling in a blanket of white mist.

Everyone in the room directed their attention to the mist, Harry included when he saw what everyone else was doing. Images soon began to formulate on the clouds, similar to the way a movie would play in an outdoor theatre. To Harry's surprise, the images that formed on the mist were all of him, particularly the moment when he was protecting himself from the rapist clown in front of the statue. Both of the guards whistled loudly when they saw Harry rip apart the clown with the smoky snake from his arm, though they quickly shut their mouths when the devil turned his eyes to him.

"Damn...so cool..." Damian muttered from the back of the room. The next projection showed Harry and Damian on the surface world, especially the part when they started a street war with members of the Catholic church. While Damian could be seen in the backgrounds engaging the silent priest with the knife, most of the focus was on Harry as he threw Leeson into the cafe's window with the invisible force in his hands. The same thing was shown again when Harry used it again on one of the policemen looking creatures as he tried to defend Damian, this time receiving more cheers and hooting from the two guards and Damian.

 **"Enough,"** said Narissa softly, quickly shutting the both of them up again, **"I got everything I want to know"**

Turning her back to Harry and returned to her place next to the ruler of hell, she gently laid her arm on Satan's, staring into his eyes as if she was telling him something that only they, and no one else could understand. He husband sighed softly, before smiling lovingly at her. SMILING! When did the DEVIL every smile?!

 **"I have a proposal for you child"** Harry forced his direction away from the abnormality of the smiling devil and turned his attention once more back to his co-ruler. Unlike her husband, she didn't share the same expression on her face, **"In short, I wish to make you a royal guard"**

Okay...there goes the devil's joyful expression as he turned his attention to Harry and examined him with a critical eye.

 **"I'm sorry darling, but this shrimp?"**

 **"Yes. I believe he has some use to us if we are willing to accommodate him"**

 **"But why? What do you see in him?"**

 **"Quite a bit"** replied Narissa as she played with the edges of her long black nails, **"At the moment he is unscripted, but you taught me there is a way us to reverse that process"**

 **"The Oath of the Royal Guards"** muttered the devil under his breath, **"Yes...I remember that. But why bother with that in the first place, just get rid of him"**

 **"We could"** agreed Narissa, blowing slightly on her fingers, **"But that would be a waste of talent. As you can see by the orb, the child holds immense magical power. But it is untamed, uncontrolled, destructive if left to its own cases. Still...I determine that he could be a suitable asset for us, should we mold him into the position with the limit time that we have"**

 **"Time?"**

 **"Yes...the boy is still very young. Should he stay unscripted before his eighteenth birthday then he will merely wither away...forever floating between the realms of the physical and the spiritual. Make no mistake, I'm not making this offer to the boy frivolously...if he had been any older than what he is currently, then I would not have objected to you striking him down right on the spot"**

The way she spoke made everyone in the room hold their breath, especially Harry who now knew what was going on behind the demon woman's constant questions for him. She didn't see him as a pitiful soul, why should she? She was perhaps one of the most powerful figures in Hell while he was just a mere demon in her eyes. The only reason he was still living (does being in Hell count as living?) was because the queen saw some use in him. That was all he was, an asset. An object for them to use.

 **"Is there another reason for this? Not that I don't believe you dear, but there are a plethora of other demons out in Hell that is powerful, maybe even more powerful than this boy. Why not just choose one of them? Then again, why do we even need another Royal Guard in the first place?"**

 **"I don't doubt the ability of our current guards. Barbatos, Gamigin, and Valek prove to be very capable guards"** The two demons on the side of the rulers chuckled to her compliment, **"But this is for more than just Hell. This is for our son"**

Every eye turned to the back of the room, directly at the son of Hell whose ears flattened from all the attention.

 **"Yes Damian, I haven't forgotten about you,"** said Narissa softly, **"Why don't you come forward and explain yourself?"**

Whether that was a request or a command, Harry wasn't sure. But if he had his say then it would be a command as Damian's feet literally shot forward and stopped rather unnaturally in front of Harry, all at the way his mother would move he fingers in conjunction with his movements.

The little jackal demon was literally towered by both of his parents. It was almost impossible to believe that this was the child of the devil and his wife had it not been for the familiar jackal features.

 **"Well? Your father and I are listening?"** said Narissa as she nuzzled her husband. Harry wasn't sure if he was hallucinating, but he swore he saw the devil himself blush slightly. Quite an achievement considering the amount of red that he wore.

 **"Well..."** Damian fidgeted and squirmed as he clutched his hands tightly, **"I-it's not that I hate Hell, or that I don't appreciate the things that you guys do for me...but I j-just find it so boring down here. I feel that I don't hate any freedom to do anything for myself. I'm just always confined to the walls of the palace, never seeing anything beyond the walls. Then when mom told me stories about Safe Haven...I knew that I just had to go...to see everything she talked about..."**

 **"You do realize that you are only nine years old?"** asked Narissa

 **"I do know that!"** protested Damian loudly. He snapped his jaws shut in shock before speaking again in a more calm tone. **"But even a nine-year-old has their limits...I'm sorry"**

Narissa and Lucifer's eyes softened as they looked at their son, and then each other.

 **"Baby, come here please"** Damian's ears perked up slightly as he slowly walked over to his parents and found himself embraced by both of them.

 **"We know the feeling that you are talking about. Your father felt it with his father Jehovah and I too felt it with my own parents"** whispered Narissa as Damian threw his arms around the two of them and sobbed into their shoulders, **"But we also understand the cold truth of reality. The world outside is unforgiving and dangerous, especially to our kind. What your father and I have done is not to imprison you, but to protect you"**

 **"I-I know that!"** sobbed Damian, **"But s-sometimes I t!" feel like its too much! Like it really does feel like imprisonment!"**

 **"There, there baby"** crooned Narissa as she slowly stroked his furry head, **"Let it all out..."**

For the next few moments, there was an awkward silence in the room as everyone, Harry included, watched the prince of Hell pour his hearts out, all while his parents looked at one another with sad smiles and embraced their son. Harry, despite his continual fear of hell, couldn't help but feel rather warm yet disturbed at the same time. This was the literal ruler of hell and his wife he was talking about here! And the fact they had more compassion for family than the Dursley's left Harry feeling rather sickened. True he felt happy for Damian, but at the same time, he also felt rather awkward for standing here while they engaged in their...family moment.

 **"Which is why I propose this"** continued Narissa, **"I propose that perhaps we should be more...lenient with our son"**

As both her husband and her son looked at her with surprise, Lucifer opened his mouth to speak but was shushed by his wife, **"I know what you are thinking. But Damian does have a valid point. We cannot hold him back forever, eventually, he will have to be exposed to the outside world, he will have to experience the cruelty of the world for himself and develop his own perspective of it"**

 **"But darling, what you are proposing is exceptionally dangerous. You expect to let him explore the surface world and not be met with opposition from its inhabitants? Will he go without protection?"** protested Lucifer.

 **"I know that"** replied Narissa, **"Which is why I want to induct the child into the Royal Guard. Damian seems to value the child quite a bit. Coupled with his already immense powers, he would be the perfect guard for Damian"**

Her eyes flashed as she once again looked at Harry standing in front of them.

 **"If he chooses to accept..."** She huffed and wrapped her arms around Damian, lifting off her husband's lap and into her own. She then kissed his head before putting him once more to the ground, **"Now run along Damian, and tell your friend that he has to make his choice by tomorrow. If not, then your privileges we spoke of will be revoked and he will be taken care of for good. Now scoot"**

With a little nudge from his mother, Damian bolted off as fast as he could, taking Harry by the arms and dragging him along with him.

"Come on...!"

"Hwahh?" Still shell-shocked by how fast things were going, Harry felt himself get literally dragged by the arm as Damian and he left the throne room. Taking one last glance at the occupants of the room, he saw the queen of Hell wave over the pink-haired woman and one of the royal guards.

 **"Barbatos, he is yours if he accepts. Tentadora, I need you to head to the surface world and talk with one of the Peacekeepers. But only if the boy agrees tomorrow"**

 **Author Notes: Again, apologies for the long wait but life has taken its toll on me. The first semester for university just finished, then one of my dogs died of old age, I got a case of the fever for one week and then my grandpa died too, right after I got better. In all honesty, it was a miracle that I was able to get this chapter out. I hope I'll be able to squeeze at least one more out before the second semester starts again. Hope you still enjoy the story.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own any of the characters from the Zoophobia and Harry Potter canon. They are the rightful property of Vivienne Madrano and J.K Rowling respectively.**

 **Chapter 8: Initiation**

 **"Do you, Harry Potter, swear to uphold the tenants of the Royal Guards throughout and beyond your services to the crown?"** asked Narissa sombrely, **"Fully aware that these tenants are as follows; Strength, Loyalty, and Sincerity?"**

"I...do" Harry hesitated for the brief of moments, but he was able to bounce back and quickly reply to the Queen of Hell's question as he held Lucifer's right hand upon his. Harry was out of the rags he wore when he resurrected in Hell, now fitted with a form-fitting, double-breasted grey leather tunic jacket and equally grey dress pants. The universal uniform for all Royal Guard initiates.

But not the ruby stone necklace. That was for sworn-in members only.

His hair was also mostly fixed, somehow. Mostly likely with the aid of hellish magic, his hair was now less messy and styled to the right, allowing his forehead, and the subsequent lightning bolt scar, to be visible to all. His tufts of hair arranged to look like deer ears were the only things too stubborn to be fixed. Harry still wore the broken glasses he died in. When he asked if he had to remove them for the ceremony, Tentadora told him to keep them on, promising that he wouldn't be needing them soon.

Harry gulped, his head lowered in respect to the patriarch of Hell, as he watched the ground slow pool with blood, all of it dripping from the knife wound on Lucifer's clawed hand. The silence in the room was palpable as every demon present watched with a hitched breath, waiting for Narissa to continue the ceremony.

 **"Will you uphold the tenant of Strength?"** continued Narrissa, **"Know that the Royal Guards are an elite force where weakness, in all its forms, has no place nor tolerance. Will you dedicate your time to build strength? So that you may become our instrument, our sword, in times of crisis?"**

"I do" This time Harry was more confident with what he said.

 **"Will you uphold the tenant of** **Loyalty?"** asked Narrissa with growing insistence, **"The Royal Guard is a brotherhood that's united by its servitude to the Royal Family. Should you accept, from this point on what existence you have, no matter how meager it may be, will be dedicated entirely to the Royal Family. Will you offer mind, body, and soul to us, should we ask you of it?"**

"I do" This time there were a few cheers and whistles from the demons watching from behind. Harry couldn't help but smile a bit as he kept his head down.

 **"And finally..."** Narissa and Lucifer looked genuinely tired this time, despite the ceremony taking place in the morning (is it morning? Sometimes he couldn't tell in Hell cause there wasn't a sun to refer to), **"Will you uphold the tenant of Sincerity? For the Royal Guards are a proud and ancient order, one whose origins date back to the first Holy Wars with Heaven. Will you temper your emotions? Humble yourself while embracing your demonhood, accepting the responsibilities that come with your power?**

"I do"

Narissa and Lucifer looked at one another wearily, then to Harry. He felt chills down his back as the two of them gave him long and calculative stares. If they were angry, they didn't show it.

 **"Then with my authority as the binder of this contract between Lucifer, the King of Hell, and Harry Potter, I hereby place this burden upon your shoulders. One that you shall carry, until your existence or usefulness to us, is null"** With her final words, the demonic rune carved underneath Harry wrote the final transcripts of the spell by itself. The pool of blood that had been steadily growing from the wound from Lucifer's hand was quickly swallowed up greedily by the rune, like water that had been poured onto a particularly hot and dry surface of the dirt. The rune powered up, glowing a faint reddish-pink color and enveloping Harry as he felt the full force of the magic applied to him.

Its sensation was brutal and that was putting it lightly. From the sheer force of pain alone, Harry collapsed onto his stomach and begun violently shaking. Foam and bile came from his mouth as the spell took its effect on him. His eyes widened, his heart rate increasing exponentially. And all the while, he felt the sensation of the scar on his head ripping itself open and being pressed against a sharpened, heated metal nail.

His hands robotically reached up and begun clawing his own scar. In fact, his hands went where ever the pain would fester on his body, be it hands, chest, or legs.

Suddenly the pain loosened on his scar and instead redirected itself towards his eyes. While not as painful as the scar, it was nonetheless irritating, similar to how Dudley and his gang use to throw dirt on his eyes. Realizing that his actions were doing nothing to soothe the pain, Harry bite his own tongue and forced his hands to stay where they were allowing the pain to take its course on him while praying to himself for the strength to get through the pain.

The pain finally loosened up and Harry was able to drag himself up, the rune finally achieving its purpose. His eyes sparkled and he hissed in pain as he felt little statics of energy flicker unstably from his eyes. A warm and furry arm found its way around Harry's neck, wrapping him tightly in its embrace.

"You did it. You passed" whispered Damian into Harry's deer ears. His ears dropped as he noticed the glint in Harry's eyes "I'm so sorry for forcing this burden on you."

Harry blinked several times to clear his vision, realizing quickly that his eyesight was restored before Damian embraced him into a tight hug with both his arms. Looking around the room from Damian's shoulders, he noticed the enormous amount of demons looking at the two of them with smiles. The largest one, of course, was Tentadora's, who was clearly trying to egg Styx and Hilda to smile just as much as she was.

It was failing, obviously. The two pragmatic demons too stuck-up to express such emotions. But there was the shadow of a smile underneath all of it, no matter how much they tried to hide it behind masks of neutrality.

Then there were the Devils Sisters, introduced to him just hours before his induction ceremony, who looked at him with perhaps the most disturbing smiles of all. Ventis, Vespa, Verin; all of them gazed at him rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth, their unique demonic-looking eyes obviously screaming that they intend to 'play' with him once he recovers from his initiation ceremony.

Other demons, some he already knew such as Barbatos, also gave him encouraging smiles as they clapped politely. Even Narissa and Lucifer sitting on their throne/couch, looking exhausted beyond belief, gave him the smallest hint of a smile as his attention came upon them. Seeing the smiles from all of the demons in the room...it tugged something from the heart encased within his broken body. The smallest flicker of warmth.

How queer. That he would feel warmth and love from creatures that bore no resemblance to his family, let alone humans. He should be frightened, especially how some of the demons truly did inhibit terrifying forms such as one who was half man and half dog. Or another who was the upper half of an imp-like creature sowed on the body of a massive eight-legged spider.

But he didn't.

And frankly? He wouldn't have it any other way.

"What are you talking about, Damian?" asked Harry as he wrapped his arms around Damian as well, "I don't see no burden"

And he truly didn't.

Before he prepared to close his eyes and embrace his first friend, Harry's eyes wandered over to a large mirror sitting directly opposite him.

The demon staring back at him remained the same as before. Dressed in a grey leather tunic jacket and grey dress pants, he radiated a level of maturity no commonly seen in eight-year-old kids. Accompanied by red and black hair, pale skin, tufts of hair emulating deer ears, and two small antlers just above his forehead, the demon literally screamed edge lord. There was something different, though. His retina, once a warm shade of green, now sparkled sharply, like emeralds polished immaculately.

But that wasn't what caught his attention. Rather it was what was within his emerald green retinas. The pupil to his right eye was gone, replaced with the five-pointed star of the devil. In his left eye, the pupil was replaced with the cross of St. Peters.

'Huh...cool' though Harry as he felt the Devil Sisters collide with his body, no doubt attempting to join in on the hug he shared with Damian.

 **Author Notes: I'm back. Sorry if the chapter is a little small but this is a quick little teaser before the next chapter. From now on, the chapters will delve into the contents from the books. How will Harry go to Hogwarts? How will the school react? What house will he be in? Who will be his pet?**

 **Heck, will they even believe he's still alive?**

 **That's for you to find you soon. Cheerios~!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own any of the characters from the Zoophobia or Harry Potter canon. They are the rightful property of Vivienne Madrano and J.K Rowling respectively.**

 **Chapter 9: Letters**

The frosted grass crunched beneath McGonagall's heels as she strode across the lawn, towards the wooden door of the average suburban house in front of her. The dew from the morning's fog quickly misted up her spectacles the moment she apparated onto the footpath.

Grumbling in annoyance, McGonagall reached into the handbag she had slung over her shoulder and whipped out a white handkerchief to wipe her spectacles. Had she had her way, she would've just taken her wand out and waved it off for convenience's sake. But no...laws.

That being said, at least she could follow the laws placed on dressing like Muggles in Muggle suburbs, opting to wear a black and white striped business suit with a matching knee-height skirt, black stockings and black heels. Unlike most of her colleagues, she actually engaged with muggles quite a bit, especially when she went on one of these liaison missions for Dumbledore.

Ah, Dumbledore.

The thought of that man and his bottles makes her sigh with exasperation every time. She didn't want to believe it, but like a thorn in her side, she had to come to the reality of it eventually.

Dumbledore has actually and finally lost his mind.

For Merlin's sake! The boy's been dead for three years. She was there when they placed his body into the ground with his parents at Godric's Hollow. And yet the man wanted to claim that the boy was still alive?! Off some scribbles made into the Book of Admittance?

Granted no one could physically write in the book. But she didn't buy it. In fact, she didn't believe anyone bought it. The book could've easily been hoodwinked by Dumbledore. Even if he's a mess of his once-powerful self, he was still an extremely capable and skilled wizard. Such an action wouldn't have been too hard for him to achieve.

His case wasn't best supported by the fact that he arrived at the Ministry, half-drunk, waving the book atop his head like one of those muggle preachers she'd seen on the streets.

But Fudge believes him. And he was suffering for it.

Rumors quickly spread that Fudge was kissing up to Dumbledore out a last-ditch attempt to save his political career. It would make sense. In the days following the news of Harry Potter's death, Fudge's administration took a massive drop in popular support. Having the Boy-Who-Lived die under your administration would do that, now that McGonagall thought about it. And making yourself supportive of Dumbledore's claims that the boy was still alive to boost public morale would look good for the papers.

She had to give him credit for that. Fudge still retained his majority in the government, even if it was shrinking with every yearly census. The fact that he was able to hold onto his office for three years through political turmoil and constant shutdowns did warrant the man additional credit. Maybe it was because of his constant crackdowns on government corruption. Or his continued zero-tolerance policy towards rising numbers of dark magic users in the wake of the boy's death actually produced results.

Many of those arrested probably weren't actually Death Eaters though. Most likely some poor fools under the Imperius Curse. But it did look good in the press.

Dumbledore, unlikely Fudge, was faring much worse.

Minerva didn't think there could ever be a person more beaten up by the media than Dumbledore. Left and right, wherever he went, Dumbledore was slandered by the media for every little thing he did. Walk into Flourish and Blotts? He would leave with a bruise on his eye after a book was thrown at him. Enter The Hog's Head? Murmurs of shadowy, backdoor dealings surfaced. Like hungry sharks, the media and public prowled Albus Dumbledore, watching his every move and waiting for the perfect opportunities to make him bleed.

He lost his position as Chief Warlock over the Wizengamot. He was voted, with an overwhelming majority, out of the International Confederation of Wizards. He even lost his Order of Merlin, First Class. Everything he ever had that gave him a position of prestige was stripped away from him. The only thing they couldn't take away from him was his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts. But even then, there were talks of it already if he couldn't prove Harry Potter's still alive and was attending Hogwarts this year.

Dumbledore weathered through all the fabricated scandals, all the public outcries, all the demands for his immediate resignation. And he did it all with that iconic smile of his and without signs of mental breakdown; much to the chagrin of 'acclaimed' healer's at St. Mungo.

His opponents say it's because he had friends in high places. His supporters, few as they are now, say it's because of his impeccable skill as a wizard and continued service to the Wizarding World. Minerva was one of the few that knew it was because of his bottles.

She sighed. As much as she didn't believe him, no man deserves to have his name dragged like that through the mud, bared naked for the world to see by his opponents like a bird plucked clean of its feathers.

The signs of fatigue could be seen on him. His beard, once a silvery gray that would shimmer in the moonlight, was now stained mustard yellow, dyed by the excessive amounts of alcohol he consumed. His eyes that would once twinkle like the stars, were now empty and dull, the life sucked out them by the brutality of the media.

Yet...through it all, he rebutted all that society threw at him. Without any malice and always persisting his case that the Boy-Who-Lived, lives once more.

McGonagall sighed. Maybe...she should give him a chance. As his deputy and close confidant, she had always trusted Dumbledore's actions. And they always were proved true in the end

Maybe she should trust him once more and accept that the Boy-Who-Lived is still alive.

...

Nah.

She's only supporting him at this point cause she pitied him.

McGonagall reached the wooden door of the muggle and rapped her knuckles against it. As she waited for the muggles within to wake up and open the door, she reached once more into her handbag and withdrew the letter given to her by Dumbledore this morning.

Eventually, the door opened, cautiously. A thin man with a nightcap poked his head out sleepily.

"Mr. Granger, I presume?"

"Um...yeah, that's me" He looked McGonagall up and down, taking in her appearance, "If you're selling...you should've picked a better time"

"Mr. Granger, I am not selling you anything," said McGonagall in the tone of a professional businesswoman, "I'm here to discuss your daughter, Hermione Granger?"

"M-my d-daughter?" Mr. Granger's eyes widened in fear and he instinctively closed the door a bit to hide behind it, "W-what did she d-do? N-not in tr-trouble, I hope?"

"Nothing of the sort, Mr. Granger" McGonagall moved forwards slightly, testing the waters a bit. As she expected, Mr. Granger flinched and shrunk back. Seems he's not the bravest of men, "I'm here to offer your child an opportunity"

"O-opportunity?"

"For a school. Do you mind if I come in?" Mr. Granger looked like he might protest for a moment, but then held back meekly and opened the door up for her. SLowly.

 _Oh for Merlin's sake,_ McGonagall rolled her eyes and walked in, past the still slightly trembling Mr. Granger.

She might be here for a while.

* * *

Molly Weasley rinsed her hands off with the taps, before wiping them clean with the cloth that hung from the handles of the cabinet above her. She smirked to herself, proud at the stacks of dishes cleaned, dried and stacked neatly on her right side.

Usually, she would just charm them to clean themselves. But today she took the initiative to clean them herself by hand. It kept her body occupied and allowed her mind to think about...other things.

Such as her life.

As she scrubbed the plates and bowls from this morning's breakfast, Molly Weasley thought back to every part of her life and everyone that was ever part of it.

Did she regret her life? None whatsoever.

She'd been happily married to Arthur for many years now. He was the love of her life and when asked by her old Hogwarts friends if she ever considered marrying another wizard, she immediately and quite ferociously shut them down.

So what if Arthur worked in, and continued to work in, a low-wage and a dead-end job at the Ministry? What mattered, in the end, was that he made her happy. Made their children happy. He was there to comfort her when both her brothers had been murdered! Was that not good enough?!

Speaking of their children, Molly couldn't have been more happy with the children they've brought into the world together.

There was Bill, their first and by far, one of their best. Handsome, smart, brave, and arguably one of the best wizards of their times. Always a hit with the women, Molly was certain that she might actually have grandchildren before she went senile.

Charlie was next. While not as academically adept as their first, he nonetheless smart and was just as tall and handsome as Bill, if one preferred a man who loved dragons more. While she may express great disdain for his life choices, she still loved him just as much.

Percy, in many ways, was like Bill academically. While he may come off as pompous and vain, he was a boy who had the ambition and drive that she and Arthur always lacked. She had been terrified he'd almost ended up in Slytherin! But she still enormously proud he was sorted into Gryffindor.

Fred and George. She couldn't describe one without the other - sometimes she wonders if they were two parts of the same person. Just the thought of them can cause her a migraine and constant letters of their actions at Hogwarts were enough to merit ripping out her own hair. But they did make her laugh. And if they were happy, then she was happy.

Rona-

"Mummy?" squeaked a voice from behind her.

Breaking out of her train of thought, Molly Weasley turned and looked down to the youngest member of the Weasley household. The little girl stared up to her innocently, dressed in one of those jumpers Molly routinely knitted to each member of the family; in this case, it was light pink with a yellow 'G' stitched on the front.

"Yes, Ginny?" asked Molly to her youngest daughter. She noticed that Ginny had the paper Arthur was reading this morning clutched in her right hand.

"Could you tell me what this picture's about?" Molly reached down and took the paper from her daughter. It was opened up to the comic section, a new concept added back a few years ago that quickly grew popular with the younger generation of witches and wizards. Apparently it was inspired by the structure of muggle newspapers. Either way, the image Ginny was referring to was one that included a crude cartoon picture of Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore engaging in-

"It's nothing Ginny" replied Molly briskly as she scrunched up the paper up as best as she could and tucked it into the pocket in front of her apron. Of course, the artist was a reporter named Smudgley. She quickly made a mental note to burn the paper late and send a complain owl up to the _Daily Prophet_.

"Are you sure mommy?" asked Ginny with a tilt of her head.

"Yes" emphasized Molly with a little more force than needed. "Now why don't you go off and play with your brothers? Enjoy the rest of your holiday before your brothers go back to Hogwarts?"

"Hmm..." Ginny considered it before dashing off to the staircases that lead to the upper levels of the Burrow, "Okay! I'm going to see what Ron's going to do now that he's gotten his letter"

"Yeah...Ron..."Molly felt crestfallen as she watched her only daughter limber up the stairs.

Drat. She forgot about Ronald.

She didn't mean to, of course. But she still felt enormous amounts of guilt and shame as she sat down on her chair at the family's dinner table. It's just... with Bill being the first, Charlie with his dragons, Percy with his ambition, Fred and George and their mischief, and Ginny being Molly's favorite, it had been really easy for her to forget about the sixth child of the family.

It didn't help that Ron wasn't really that distinguishable. Something Fred and George mercilessly teased him about, despite Molly's best efforts to intervene. At least Percy stepped in whenever she couldn't and gave both of them a stern warning. Seems the third child was really protective of Ron.

She felt ashamed of herself. She really did want to give Ron all the love and attention he needed and deserved. But with so many children ahead of him and the only female behind him, it was quickly apparent that Ronald will be the most disadvantaged of all her children coming into Hogwarts.

As she stared out of the window above the kitchen sink, she just hoped to herself that things would get better. For herself and the family. But especially for Ron.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy swirled the wine goblet in his hand, watching through the clear crystal, the deep purple liquid within creates a miniature tornado. Despite the warnings, Lucius did greatly enjoy a glass of wine in the morning every morning. It was a treat to enjoy and only made him feel even more smug about himself and the wealth that came with his name.

Draining his goblet, he reached over to the bottle on the small table next to his favorite armchair in the reading room. To his displeasure, the lightness of the bottle meant that it was empty.

"Dobby" Lucius spoke out to the darkness around him. Despite there wasn't another creature in the room with him, a loud crack followed after he spoke those words and a small creature appeared before him at his feet. It was a small and filthy creature, around three and a half tall with large tennis ball-like green eyes, a pointy nose, and long, bat-like pointed ears.

"Master?" As if he was conditioned to it, the filthy elf had within his hands a bottle of wine, mostly like taken from the Malfoy's exquisite wine cellar, which he then offered to his blond master. As the elf filled the goblet with ample amounts of the liquid, Lucius felt his displeasure with the creature grow as he felt his goblet.

"Dobby," said Lucius, immediately stopping the elf from pouring any more wine.

"Y-yes master?" Dobby trembled under his master's gaze.

"It's warm, Dobby"

"Y-yes...master"

"Meaning, it's not cold"

"Yes...master"

"So get me another bottle! And make sure it's cold this time!"

"Y-yes master..." The elf squeaked like a cork popping from a bottle of champagne, shaking tremendously as if he'd recently been dunked into ice. Lucius calmed him down by raising a hand lazily.

"Come here Dobby"

The elf stepped forwards terrified. He stared down at the floor as he reached his master's side, too terrified to object or move as Lucius then emptied the contents of the recently filled goblet of wine onto Dobby's head. The liquid seeped down his skull, drenching him in the expensive liquid and soaking the equally expensive carpet which he stood up top. All the while, he said and did nothing as the shame hit the little house elf like a ton of bricks.

"You will fetch me another bottle of wine" commanded Lucius.

"Yes...master" Oh, Dobby wanted dearly to wipe the wine from his eyes.

"Make sure that it is cold this time. As punishment for your last folly, you shall take a warm bottle and find a way to chill it yourself. You shall not be allowed to use magic for that"

"B-but how can Dobby-" For the first time, the little house elf protested. But he quickly collapsed underneath the angry gaze his master gave him.

"How you do it, I don't care. If you must dunk yourself in a bath of ice-cold water to do it - then do it. Just get me a cold bottle! Afterward, you shall go and clean up this mess of wine you made. Am I clear?"

With a frightened nod, Dobby snapped his fingers and apparated from the spot. Staring at the spot where his house-elf departed from, Lucius leaned back with a satisfied smile.

In this world, there are two kinds of creatures. Those that rule. And those that served.

The ones that serve are those are inferior to those that were superior. Creatures like elves, goblins, centaurs, dwarfs. And...Mudbloods. It wasn't prejudiced, as Lucius said to himself many times, it was just simple facts. Pureblood wizards were simply better than Mudbloods. So isn't it natural that Mudbloods would serve Purebloods?

A Malfoy never serves. For a Malfoy was a Pureblood. That was what his father Abraxas drilled his head as a child. And that was what Lucius drilled into his own son's, Draco, head.

Draco getting his letter from Hogwarts wasn't a surprise. It was expected. As much as he didn't see much for Dumbledore, his crackpot theories about the Boy-Who-Lived and personally felt that the school was going to the dogs under that man, he would much prefer it over the shame he would feel if his own son turned out to be a squib.

Maybe he should arrange a shopping trip with Narcissa and Draco. It's been a while since they did anything as a family. It might be nice to go out and enjoy the sun for a bit.

Before he could consider his next actions, Dobby returned with a loud crack, irritating Lucius as his happy thoughts with his family evaporated.

"Yes?" He raised an eyebrow in annoyance, especially when the house-elf crashed in front of him. The creature was shivering mess, his filthy pillowcase rag soaked with water that clung to him and showed his skeletal body underneath. The elf landed face first, probably out of exhaustion, but he was able to protect the bottle of wine which he clutched to his chest.

"Y-y-your w-w-wine. M-master" The elf's teeth chattered as he shakily opened the bottle and poured the liquid into Lucius's awaiting cup.

"Hmm" Lucius swirled his cup, taking a small sip of the liquid inside, "It's cold. How did you do it?"

"D-d-dobby did a-as M-m-master told h-him. He jumped i-into a b-bath of ice w-water"

"I find the wine most distasteful when it's cold"

"Y-y-yes master" Dobby drooped his ears in defeat.

"Put the bottle away and get out of my face" snarled Lucius.

Just as Dobby was about to snap his fingers and disappear from his master, a thought struck Lucius.

"Dobby"

"Yes, master?"

"Clean up the mess you've made" Dobby looked down, with great despair, at the two puddles of liquid that stained the expensive carpet. The first when his master poured wine over him. And the second when he returned soaking wet from cold water.

"Yes...master" Lucius's sadistic grin grew a bit wider as Dobby conceded defeat.

* * *

"Happy Birthday to you~!"

"Happy Birthday to you~!"

"Happy Birthday, dear Damian~!"

"Happy Birthday to you~!"

As the song came to a close and the crowd of demons and creatures erupted into an applause, Damian blew the twelve candles adorning his red and black frosted velvet cake (Tentadora wanted a pink one, but Hilda quickly reprimanded her and reminded her that it was **Damian's** birthday) out with a great big huff.

Cheers echoed, the cake was divided amongst the party guests, and everyone broke off to start conversations with one another within the confines of the gazebo they rented at the park.

Harry chose to given Damian some space while he hugged his father and mother, opting to lay underneath a nearby tree to enjoy his slice of cake on his own and bask in the sun.

The sun.

It's been a while since he's enjoyed the sun, for what it was worth.

Hell had its own weather, but nothing could beat the feeling of the warm sun's glow on your skin. For a moment, it made him feel...alive again.

It was really...nice.

"Harry?"

He cracked an eye opened to look up. Above him and staring down at him was Hestia, dressed in a pale yellow sundress. She was standing directly above the ray of sunshine that covered his face, so her shadow covered his face and made his endeavor to enjoy the sun pretty much pointless.

"Oh, hey Hestia," said Harry as he pushed himself up. Hestia sat down next to him, patting her dress down as she placed her plate cake next to his.

"Sooo...what are you here all by your lonesome?" asked Hestia as she chewed on her cake.

"Nothing much" replied Harry with a yawn, "Just trying to enjoy some time by myself 'fore Barbartos drags my arse back for another four-hour training session"

"Oh," Hestia whispered quietly, scooting a little closer to him, "Sorry for spoiling the moment then"

"Nothing against you" Harry patted her pink and yellow scaled shoulder comfortingly, smiling at how the scales glistened under the sun like gems, "In fact, it's rather nice to talk to a friend"

The smile she gave him was infectious.

"How sweet. Thanks, Harry" She leaned her head against his shoulders. He returned the favor, leaning his head against her's.

He liked this trait about Hestia. Unlike Damian, who can be quite rowdy, sensitive and prone to violence, Hestia, being the oldest, knew when to read the mood and adopted the 'older sister' role between the three of them - adding a calm and peaceful resolution to any conflict they might come across. Not saying she didn't know how to bite back. When she bit back, she bit back hard, especially when there was some crazy religious zealot trying to cleanse Damian and Harry. It was pleasant. To have that supportive link in their friendship circle. Damian was the loud one. Hestia was the mature one. And Harry was whatever was in between.

It wasn't always like that. Harry's smile faded as he remembered back to the first time he and Damian were dragged back up to the surface world by Narrissa to apologize to Hestia and her parents. Her mother, Martha, was like an older version of her daughter, so she forgave them pretty quickly.

Her father, Hector, on the other hand.

Well...he was practically livid when he saw Damian.

Harry wasn't sure when those photos in the shop were last taken, but the Hector in the photo looked _nothing_ like the Hector in real life. Real-life Hector was, in Tentadora's words, a complete hunk of a man. Towering height akin to that of Lucifer himself, one could only dread to imagine how he was able to 'procreate' with his wife to create Hestia. Compared to the picture, he was decked out in green scales the size of fists, many of which glistened like jewels in the sun. Now that Harry thought about it, that trait seems to be shared quite commonly within Hestia's family. Underneath his carapace of hardened scales were ripped muscles, all of which added to his fearsome image as an anthropomorphic crocodile.

Anyways, when he and Damian first met Hector and his family in their ruined cafe, they were both promptly thrown out by Hector through the door.

Turns out he wasn't pissed caused the two of them wrecked his cafe, he was pissed cause he thought Damian fondled his daughter.

Looking back at the camera footage, it wasn't hard to come to that conclusion. Damian did put his hand near her breast, so anyone could mistake that for an act of perversion if they considered it from the angle in which the shot was taken.

Damian's pride didn't allow him to take it lying down, so he appeared in front of the cafe every day to say his apology, with the blessings of his parent's permission and always with a guardian, of course. Sometimes it was Tentadora, or maybe Styx, or Hilda if he really begged. But in most cases, he would just drag Harry along.

Harry, being too tired from his daily four-hour training with Barbatos, simply complied and would just let Damian drag him along for the ride. Or get thrown out of the cafe **with** Damian. He himself wasn't entirely sure why Damian was so fervent in endeavors. But if it allowed Harry to go to the surface world to enjoy some sun now and then, he didn't mind much.

The day that Hector forgave Damian, Harry wasn't there to see it. He was too busy getting his arse handed to him by Barbatos.

But from that day onwards, Hestia started hanging out with them more. It started off slow, and definitely awkward. What would you expect from a group that consisted of two boys and an older girl? But the three of them warmed up to each other quickly after the first words were said. When he and Damian came up to Safe Haven, she was always there to show them around. Sometimes it was a day at the circus or a movie or the swimming pool.

They did everything like friends. Like a real group of friends.

To have real friends...it's nice.

Harry's train of thought was broken as Hestia squealed next to him. Turning over to her, he was shocked to see her covered in brown, sticky chocolate cake.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry with concern as he pulled out a few tissues from his jacket and handed them to her.

"Y-yeah. I'm okay" She was shocked for a moment, but quickly put her self back to together she wiped the chocolate from her face with the tissue, "Dress is a mess though"

"Yeah, it sure it" Harry agreed with her, her bright yellow dress was now stained with chocolate cake, "Aren't you going to wipe it off? I could give you more tissues"

"That would only make the dress worse, wouldn't it? Give me more tissues though"

Harry couldn't argue with that. As Hestia focused on wiping herself down with the tissues he gave her, he instead directed his attention to the cause of all of this problem.

Her plate of chocolate cake was a mess. The cake that she was consuming before was gone, reduced to a pile of paste by a large white mass of feathers that rested on the center of the plastic plate.

 _Feathers?_

Harry raised a curious finger out to poke the immobile mass. Before he could though the mass moved, like it was precognition, and within a flurry of white feathers, revealed itself to be a stunningly pure white owl.

Well...if it wasn't caked in the chocolate cake it would have been one.

The owl must've known this too, cause it gave him a stern gaze as she raised her right leg. Strapped to its talons with a cord was a large, yellowed envelope.

Harry reached forward and pulled the envelope from the owl's leg. The moment he did that the bird took off haughtily into the sky, proud of its mission. Harry didn't care about the bird. He was more interested in the letter.

The envelope was thick and heavy now that he held it in his hands. What he thought was yellowed paper turned out to be yellowed parchment. Stamped at the back in purple wax was a seal of four animals holding a large 'H' between; a lion, an eagle, a snake, and a badger. While interesting to look at, Harry quickly grew bored and flipped it over. It was then that he read the emerald words written on the front.

 **Mr. Harry Potter**

 **Underneath the Sixth Pine Tree Planted**

 **Freedom Park**

 **Animal District**

 **Safe Haven**

Harry stared at the writing. Almost instantaneously his paranoia kicked it. Adrenaline levels akin to a needle shot found its way to his brain as his eyes scanned the world around him.

How? How did this letter address to him so accurately described his location? It was even down to the very tree that he was sitting underneath!

Are there cameras? Spies?

He used a few of his demonic powers to tap into his enhanced sense of smell. Like falling through a large hole, Harry's vision of the world became obscured as his sense of smell overpowered his sight.

 _Hestia's next to me. Damian's with his parents and Hestia's parents near the presents table. Demon sisters are fooling around at the lake with Bosswick. Styx, Tentadora, and Hilda are having another stereotypical rom-com argument at the drinks table. Daxler's eating all the cake. Seven other families in the vicinity of the park. All with children. No cameras as well._

Like tendrils, Harry's senses reached out and determined the locations and actions of every creature in the park. Satisfied with the information presented to him, Harry deactivated his demon deer sense and stared back down at the envelope.

An envelope for him. Huh. He couldn't remember the last time anyone's sent him a letter. The Dursley's never let him stand out in school, so he never had friends to write to nor did his classmates have any reason to write to him. Even after enlisting as a Royal Guard Initiate, he largely remained inconspicuous to the larger society in Safe Haven. Apart from the residents of Hell and Hestia and her family, Harry didn't know of another single person from his old and new life who knew that he was still alive, much less existed.

Guess there's no time to be wasted then. Using his sharpen nails, Harry slid his thumb across the envelope and withdrew the letter to read.

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**

 **Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

 **Dear Mr. Potter,**

 **We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. The term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.**

 **Yours sincerely,**

 _ **Minerva McGonagall**_

 **Deputy Headmistress**

Questions exploded within Harry's head. But he forced them out as he withdrew the second piece of paper he didn't notice hidden underneath the first one. This one read:

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**

 **UNIFORM**

 **First-year students shall require:**

 **1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)**

 **2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear**

 **3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)**

 **4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)**

 **Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags**

 **SET BOOKS**

 **All students should have a copy of each of the following:**

 _ **The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)**_ **by Miranda Goshawk**

 _ **A History of Magic**_ **by Bathilda Bagshot**

 _ **Magical Theory**_ **by Adalbert Waffling**

 _ **A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration**_ **by Emeric Switch**

 ** _One Thousand Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore**

 ** _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger**

 ** _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander**

 ** _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection_ by Quentin Trimble**

 **OTHER EQUIPMENT**

 **1 wand**

 **1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)**

 **1 set glass or crystal vials**

 **1 telescope**

 **1 set brass scales**

 **Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad**

 **PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.**

 **FOR MUGGLE-BORN STUDENTS, ALL EQUIPMENT CAN BE PROCURED AT DIAGON ALLEY. ENTRANCE IS LOCATED AT THE LEAKY CAULDRON PUB AND INN ON CHARLES CROSS STREET, LONDON**

"So what're the letters about?" Hestia peeked over his shoulder, her scales immaculate and stared down at the letters in his hand.

"Apparently an invitation to a magic school I never heard of, nor applied for" replied Harry as he handed both of the pieces of paper to Hestia. As the lizard girl took the papers to read, Harry leaned back against the bark of the pine tree stated in the letter.

The questions still lingered at the back of his head as he stared at the leafy canopy above him, the small breaks of sunlight bathing over his demonic body. But he once again forced them out of his head just as he had before, focusing instead on the warmth that the sun provided.

He might as well enjoy the sun.

Cause he knew from this moment on, peaceful moments like this were going to be few. Whether he accepted or not, the arrival of this letter symbolizes that his stagnant existence was going to new places.

So he might as well enjoy the sun while he still can.

...

Yeah.

The sun really does feel nice.

 **Author Notes: So after much deliberation, I've decided to reverse the time period back to the original 1991. It's just too hard to stray from the established time period set by J.K Rowling.**


	10. Chapter 10

**I do not own any of the characters from the Zoophobia or Harry Potter canon. They are the rightful property of Vivienne Madrano and J.K Rowling respectively.**

 **Chapter 10: Diagon Alley**

"Excuse me, sir? I was wondering if you could help me~" The man instinctively added a few more steps back, swearing to himself as he felt the brick wall collide against his back. The pink-haired woman drew ever closer to him until she was directly in front of him - pressing her breasts against his chest.

Despite all the hormones raging throughout his body, he held himself back as the voice in his head mentally kicked him over and over like a dog.

 _You have a wife. Be faithful!_

"I-I-" The man struggled to speak as his head racked ways to politely tell the woman to shove off, "I d-don't think I-I can-"

He trailed off as the woman pressed a finger against his lips- shushing him in the process. As he fell silent, she winked at him seductively. Way too seductively for his own liking!

 _What are you doing?!_ His eyes widened as the woman reached into the crevice between her breast with her hand and-

 _NOPE!_

As best as he could, the man shoved the woman from him and bolted off from the alley as fast as his legs would take him. He left behind his briefcase - containing the important files he needed for the morning presentation - but at this point, he didn't care anymore. He didn't even care if he hurt the woman when he shoved her back! He just needed to get out and go home before any more perverse thoughts got into his head.

The woman left behind by the man pouted her lips as she spied his retreating figure.

"So how'd it go?" Harry emerged from the shadows of the alley as the pink-haired lady, Tentadora got up on her feet and dusted her pink dress cleaned.

"I just don't understand..." Tentadora scratched her head innocently as she opened the piece of paper she removed from the space within the breast, "All I wanted were some directions. Are all people from the Outside this jittery?"

"Not when I was alive, no" replied Harry, handing her a water bottle he bought from a newsstand down the road, "Though...maybe it's the fact that you snatched him off the main streets, dragged him into this shady-looking alley and then proceeded to press your tits against him. Maybe that might have something to do with it?"

"Hey, people in Safe Haven don't react that badly when I do it to them"

 _What kind of life are you living, woman?_ Ignoring what she most likely inferred, Harry continued the conversation.

"That was Safe Haven. This is London. Two entirely separate and different things" Harry ushered Tentadora towards the stone archway that leads to the main streets, "C'mon, we already know we're not going to get anywhere staying in here"

Tentadora looked like she wanted to say more, by fell silent as she followed Harry through the archway, leaving the dark, damp alleyway behind and returning back to the - dark and damp streets of London.

For Satan's sake. Was London always this dreary?

London. The very name of the city would've once brought Harry great joy. He remembered that back when he was alive, the school that he and Dudley would go to annually staged a large field trip for the senior students. He'd never been to London before as a kid, but he hears the stories about how amazing it was. How wild and culturally rich it was compared to the stagnant and boring Little Whinging. It always made him slightly excited in his miserable life, the chance to go the London if he could just tough out his life for a little longer.

Now...after seeing London in the full, he couldn't help but feel that the real-life London was, in actuality, really...

...boring.

To be fair, it still hosted a wide range of entertainment features, so it was a step above Little Whinging at least. Lining the streets were burger joints, cinemas, book shops, and music stores. But it lacked color.

Unlike Safe Haven whose colors gave the world a sense of vibrancy, life, and unexpectedness, London was so monochrome. Everything from the buildings to the shops, to the people, felt washed out and dead. Safe Haven's buildings and people were doused in myriads of colors, all of which expressed a story about themselves and their personalities. London and its people didn't feel like they had a story to tell. They just all looked the same dull grey.

"What's the name of the place again, Harry?" asked Tentadora as she gazed up and down the streets, ignoring the men and women that stopped to gape at her.

"The Leaky Cauldron" replied Harry, reaching into the satchel bag he wore on the side and taking out his envelope containing his letter and a bottle of water, "Should be on Charles Cross Street. Here" He passed the papers to her, "See if you can find it on your map"

As Harry left Tentadora struggled to find the proper road using the map in the tourist brochures she had, he took the moment to open the bottle of water he bought for himself and drank some water. Feeling the refreshing water drown out his parched throat, he took the moment to stare closely at the ring on his right hand.

It was a crude ring, made of the exact same black metal that was worn by Lucifer and Narrissa, with a small ruby crystal inlaid in the center that acted as the power source of the artifact. Deciding that Harry would be going to Hogwarts after reading his letter, Harry was gifted the ring by the two rulers of Hell. As he technically was dead in the public eye and retained a demonic body, it was best to mask his demonic appearance for the trip to Diagon Alley and the duration of his time at Hogwarts.

All it really did was reverse his appearance to look like what he may have looked like if he were still alive as a healthy eleven-year-old boy. His unique eyes reverted back to their normal dull emerald green. His skin became warm and pink again, in contrast to his pale white skin. His hair became messy once more to hide his lightning bolt scar.

But it didn't change everything. His hair remained as bicolored as before; red and black. His eyesight, which was fixed following his ascension into the Royal Guards remained the same. And the two tufts of hair that stuck out from his head and gave him the distinction of having deer ears remained the same.

Harry capped his bottle and looked towards Tentadora, who was swearing under her breath as she rotated the map sideways and upside-down. Seeing as how they were going to be stuck for a while, Harry leaned against the brick wall and pulled out a book to read. It was pulled from the archives of Hell and was labeled the _Metamorphoses_ by the Roman poet Ovid.

Now he could've helped Tentadora. But the woman had stubbornly refused all of his attempts and said with great pride that it was her - "responsibility" - as _his_ nanny for the day to take care of all the problems. He remembered how she patted his head as they disembarked off Snake's plane at London Airport - saying he should enjoy his youth while he still got it.

Well...if that's what she wanted - then sure.

Harry continued to read his book while his nanny for the day pitifully struggled with the map. In fact, he so got so absorbed it with his book - that he chittered in annoyance when a large shadow came over him. Wouldn't have been a problem, if the shadow hadn't stayed put for a lot longer than he wanted it to.

"Do you mind?!" Harry closed his book irritably and looked up to give whoever was behind him a piece of his mind. He was going to - until he realized that he was staring straight at the person's belly instead of their face. He craned his head back and was greeted with a face completely enveloped with layers upon layers of hair. He didn't think they were ever a single creature in the world, anthros, and animals of Safe Haven included, that could beat this man in the most facial hair in the world!

That was if he could even tell if this man was a human at all. The only thing that Harry could spy that gave him the impression that he was a man were the two beady little eyes that looked back at him, glistening like the shells of beetles.

"Sorry," said the giant of a man as he stepped back. It was then that Harry was able to get a closer look at him. He was massive, easily eight feet tall, perhaps more. He towered over everyone on the streets, making him easily distinguishable if the stares from onlookers wasn't a good enough indicator.

That wasn't even taking into account his peculiarities. He wore a massive black overcoat, probably made out of some kind of animal fur, marked by numerous pockets that bulged with unknown objects inside. Over his large belly was a large belt the size of his head, of which hung a silver buckle the size of his fists and numerous chains of keys.

"That's okay" replied Harry as he tucked the book back into his satchel, "I just hope you have a good reason for staring at me"

"Ah...I just thought you looked like some'on ah knew" The giant sounded strained as if he was holding back tears.

"Do I now?" Harry raised an eyebrow to that.

"Yeh, not like him o'course. More like what he mighta been, mighta grown-up into - if he were still alive"

"Oh..." Harry's heart felt for the man. He must've lost a child, perhaps a baby. He could only imagine the pain that the man was going through.

"Anyways -" The man took a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes with his hands the size of dinner plates before extending them out to Harry, "Name's Rubeus Hagrid"

"Pleasure" replied Harry, "My name is..."

He trailed off as he remembered Satan's warning to use a different alias when on the Outside, in case of _problems._ Suddenly remembering what he had to do, he racked his brain for a name that he could use.

"Picus" He quickly pulled that name from one of the characters from his favorite book "Ovid Picus"

 _Wow...great way to be subtle._

At least the giant named Hagrid bought it. As Harry closed his hand around Hagrid's and shook his hands, he hoped to himself that Tentadora would remember as-

"Yoohoo! Harry! I think I got it!"

 _Well...shit._

Harry internally grimaced while Hagrid gawked as Tentadora came running up to them, panting like crazy. What Hagrid said next sent shivers down his spine.

"That wo'man called yeh Harry" He probably didn't mean to come off accusatory, but Harry felt it so he had to quickly think of a way to rectify the loophole Tentadora dug him in.

"It's my middle name" It was a hasty, pathetic and arguably lame excuse - but it got Hagrid distracted long enough for his attention to be pulled away from Harry and onto Damian's nanny. He looked at her with _those_ eyes, the same eyes that many men, and even women, gave her in Safe Haven and London. But to Harry's surprise, Hagrid's eyes shifted much quicker than he expected.

"Who are you and what are you doing to my baby?" asked Tentadora curiously, eyeing between Hagrid and Harry.

"Name's Rubeus Hagrid, ma'am" He bowed slightly to Tentadora, "Ah pleasure to meetcha. Ah was just talkin with Ovid here"

"My, my - what a gentleman" Tentadora's eyes flashed the **_look_** , the kind she would give when someone caught her interest and would become the object of her next one-night stand.

 _What's going on?_ communicated Tentadora to Harry within his head, _Why's your name Ovid?_

 _Tentadora, did you forget our Lord's orders?!_ replied Harry, using the same demonic powers as she did to link his mind to hers.

 _Oh shit! Sorry!_

 _No harm is done. Just call me Ovid Picus from now on_

"Anyways..." Tentadora pulled out of the little mental squabble she had with Harry and directed her attention back towards the real him, "Ovid, darling, I think I know where to go now"

She opened the map and showed it to him, "We just need to walk down a couple of these here streets and then we should be on Charles Cross Street. We can find the Leaky Cauldron from there"

"Excuse me ma'am" Hagrid interjected before Harry could reply to her suggestion, "Ah apologize fer evesdroppin, but ah couldn't help but hear ya lookin for the Leaky Cauldron? May I ask why?"

"Oh!" Tentadora turned to Hagrid with a troubled expression, "Why do you care?"

"Ah have business down at the Cauldron me'self. And besides, the path ya'll point out leads you down to the Thames" He pointed on the map and sure enough, the path she pointed out did lead to the Thames.

"Hmm... in that case - " Tentadora opened the letters that she still had and passed them to Hagrid, "Is this a good enough reason?"

The papers were tiny in Hagrid's hands so Harry, and especially Tentadora, were impressed at how he delicately held them in his hands. His little beetle-like eyes skimmed through the pages quickly.

"Hogwarts?" asked Hagrid without looking up from the paper.

"Yep" replied Harry.

"And yah know about - _our kind_?" He whispered that last part as if he was trying to hide it from the multitude of people walking past them.

"That, we do" Harry remembered there were a few African witches living in Safe Haven.

"Good. Makes this easier than. Most muggle-borns wouldn't know the first time" Hagrid nodded in acknowledgment and folded the papers up, passing them Tentadora who then passed it to Harry who placed in back in his satchel, "Follow me then"

Hagrid did quite a good job ushering them along, much better than he and Tentadora could ever attempt. It was as if the man knew the map of London like the back of his hand. Where ever they went, he always seemed to find ways to direct them to parts of the road where traffic was less, massively improving the distance they were covering. They pasted apartment blocks, made up of massive structures that housed a vast number of people - most of which stood on their balconies doing laundry. Another street they pasted through was minuscule to the large London; a nice suburb with architecture that looked dated back in the Victorian area - as well as multiple small stores such as a bakery or a knitting store.

Lots of people gaped at them, parting the way as they walked. Harry didn't fault them for doing so. Hagrid was easily the size of two men stacked on top of one another, and Tentadora was literally the embodiment of Lust. What did they expect was going to happen?

Harry ignored them by focusing instead on the scenery. Hagrid and Tentadora ignored them by conversing with one another.

"So ahm been wondering. How come yah so easily show me the Hogwarts letter? Do you have experience with magic folk?" asked Hagrid curiously to Tentadora as they crossed an intersection.

"You could say we do" Tentadora replied as she pushed herself against him closer until they were shoulder to shoulder - well she only reached up to his elbows. Seems she's taken quite a liking to him, especially how reserved and polite he seemed to act around her "Where we're from, magical folks are quite common"

"Makes sense" Hagrid agreed with her.

"My turn. How are you so large?" asked Tentadora enthusiastically, rebounding a question towards him.

"I'm half-giant," said Hagrid, quite proudly might Harry add, "Got som' giant's blood in me. Ma's side, o' course"

"Really...?" Tentadora gasped like a giddy schoolgirl, "Is that how you're so big and muscly?" Ah. She must've noticed the layer that muscle that was on his hands and assumed that the rest of his body was probably muscly too.

"Yah flatter me, ma'am. Giant's blood is one thing. Ahm also a gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Mah job is to take care of ter critters living in the forest by the school" Hagrid turned and motioned to Harry, "You might even see me down there, Ovid. Make sure to have o' cupper if you are free"

Harry nodded in response, locking that bit information into his head for later.

"What kind of animals are we talking about here?"

"Big kind, ma'am. Sometimes unicorns, other times Bowtruckles. Ah, remember there was a Forest Troll once. He had himself a quite the cold an' he'd been rampaging through the forest" said Hagrid with some thought, "Had ta wrestle 'im to the ground"

"You defeated him? How big was he?" asked Tentadora incredulously.

"Twice my size" added Hagrid, trying not to be too proud of himself, "Giant blood aside, these trolls aren't too bright. Just gotta know 'ow to move"

His eyes brightened up as they finally reached their direction. "'ere we are. Leaky Cauldron. Famous place" He gestured towards a tiny, grubby-looking pub with a small sign hanging over it that spelled out the words _Leaky Cauldron_ in faded yellow letters. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry and Tentadora probably wouldn't have noticed it was right there. The people hurrying by them certainly didn't seem to notice. Their eyes slid from the big book store on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all.

"Where is it?" asked Tentadora, looking up and down the road, her eyes strangely pale and devoid of their usual bright color, "I'm sorry. All I can see it this book store and this music store side-by-side"

"Ah. Sorry 'bout that" Hagrid reached over and grabbed her by the arm. Immediately, her eyes lit up and she gasped, probably seeing the Cauldron materialize in front of her eyes.

"What was that?" asked Tentadora in amazement.

"Safety," replied Hagrid as he ushered Harry and Tentadora towards the door, "Law. Can't have ter Muggles seein us"

"What's a Muggle? Sounds like an insult" Harry spoke up for the first time since Tentadora joined them.

"Not meant ta be, but its suppose to mean non-magic folk. In most cases, they can't see the Cauldron. If they are in the com'pany wit folks like us - then they can" explained Hagrid as he looked at his hand holding onto Tentadora's arm, "Sorry ma'am, but 'tcha gonna need to let me hold on while I take you in. Otherwise, you won't be able to see it. Hope yah don't mind"

"Not at all~" Harry groaned as she giggled like she was punch-drunk, "Lead the way. My big, **strong** , man~~"

In contrary to Hagrid's words, the "famous" Leaky Cauldron was very dark and shabby. Dimly lit by torches, a musty old chandelier, and a single large window, Harry spied a few old women sitting a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a large pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old barman, who was quite old and looked like a shriveled walnut. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they smiled and waved at him, and the barman reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, On Hogwarts business. Besides..." Hagrid shifted so Harry and Tentadora could properly squeeze themselves into the view of everyone in the room, "Escortin these two ta Diagon Alley. Muggle-born. New student"

The silence in the room was deafening. Every single person in the room had stopped what they were doing, most of which to gaze at the stunning beauty that hung sheepishly from Hagrid's arm. Harry smiled a bit as he saw their reaction, holding back his laughter as he saw a man spill his mead on his front as he stared at Tentadora with cloudy eyes, or how one of the old ladies in the back continued to puff at her pipe, despite the flame going out long ago.

"Oh dear, this is embarrassing" chuckled Tentadora as she detached herself from his arms, "I hope my boy and I aren't causing any trouble"

...

"B-blimey, Hagrid, w-w-where did you s-sc-score a stunning l-l-lady friend like t-th-this?" asked a man with a turban from the back, the jealously evidently dripping from his voice, despite his stutter.

"You are so lucky, Hagrid!"

"Have you known Hagrid for a long time?!"

"I hope he's treating you well. If not..., well I'm always open"

"You have a wife, you idiot!"

"Hi, the name's Diggle. Dedalus Diggle"

As the shouting got louder around the inn, and Hagrid and Tentadora quickly found themselves the epicenter of attention, Harry pushed himself between the suffocating crowd of witches and wizards, stumbling until he found himself in front of the shriveled barman named Tom.

"Sorry about all of this," said the barman sadly over the roar of the crowd as Harry pushed his hair to further cover his scar. He returned to wiping his glasses with the cloth, "They are usually so well behaved. Just so happens that your mother in an extravagant beauty, if I say so myself"

"Nothing against you, sir. She's not my mother by the way. Just my nanny" replied Harry, reaching a hand over the counter to Tom, "Ovid Picus"

"Tom" repeated the barman as he shook Harry's. "Where are your parents then?"

"They're dead. I've been adopted into another family. They were quite shocked when I got my letter from Hogwarts" said Harry coolly. Damn, when did he get so good at lying?

"I'm sorry about your parents, kid. But, yeah, Muggle families tend to react that way, especially when they find out their child is a Muggle-born" said Tom, placing the glass he was polishing away and reaching for another one from a stack of dirty ones on his right.

There. Right there. Again with the term Muggle-born. Was it an insult? Was it a slang? A regional dialect? What was it?!

"Excuse me, but what is a-" Harry never got to finish his question as at that precise moment, a large hand shot out and scooped him up. Yelping, Harry heard Hagrid's shout of "Sorry! Business an' all that" over the mumbling of the crowd, before a flash of light when over his vision and he felt his feet once more touch the ground.

"Sorry about that" apologized Hagrid. He and Tentadora looked equally frazzled as they brushed themselves off. The three of them were standing in a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds "Good folk. Usually. Now, what was it?"

Hagrid stepped forwards and pulled out a small pink umbrella from the contents of his pocket. To be honest, it looked rather silly on the giant of a man, but what he did with it next was equally silly.

"Three up...two across..." muttered Hagrid as he tapped the bricks with the umbrella's tip. "Right, stand back, you two"

The brick he had touched quivered - it wiggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were standing in front of an archway, large enough even for Hagrid, that faced towards a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid with a grin, "To Diagon Alley"

It wasn't hard to see why Hagrid was grinning. Harry and Tentadora's jaws were dropped open in shock. Unlike the dull and grey of the London streets on the outside, Diagon Alley was warm, comforting and full of life. It was amazing! Like a city was hidden within another city. As they stepped through the archway, Harry looked back over his shoulder and saw the alleyway shrink back into its brick wall state.

Various shops lined the two sides of the streets, further adding to the magical atmosphere of the street. The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest store. _Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible_ said a sign on the outside of the store.

'Can we afford all of this?" asked Tentadora as her eyes caught a golden cauldron hanging from the hand of a nearby wizard, "We have money - but do you magic folk use a different kind of currency?"

"Yah can exchange yeh money at Gringotts, our bank. Ah have some business there meself, so I can accompany y'all for the time bein"

As they walked along the streets, Harry's eyes constantly flickered from one store to another, excitement building up in him as he took in all the sights that were there to be offered and imprinted them within his mind. The stores, the things they had for sale, even the people doing their shopping. A plump woman was standing outside an apothecary, shaking her head as they passed by "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

A low, hooting noise came from a dark shop with a sign saying _Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawney, Screech, Barn, Brown and Snowy._ Several boys about Harry's size had their noses pressed against a window, admiring the broomstick inside that was laid upon a red cushion. There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and other astronomy equipment, a shop that sold barrels of bat spleens and trays of beetle eyes, a shop that sold quills and stationary, a shop that sold potion bottles. There was even a shop that sold ice cream, though the ice cream was much more elaborate than the one sold in _Hector's._

"There it is - Gringotts," said Hagrid as he indicated the largest building in front of them. Said building was snowy-white in color, easily towering over all of the little shops in the alley. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -

"Pfft~ What a funny looking creature!" The creature, a head shorter than Harry with a pointed nose and sharp beard, must've heard Tentadora struggle to contain her laughter, as it gave them all an offended glare as it opened the door for them.

"Best yah don't do that" explained Hagrid to both of them as they entered the vast marble hall, another two of the creatures bowing to them as they entered "Goblins don't take lightly ter insults. Especially from our kind"

"Why not?" asked Harry curiously.

"Lost a war with us. Still mighta bitter 'bout it"

Harry watched the goblins work inquisitively as they walked along the hall. About a hundred or so goblins sat on high stools behind long counters, scribbling into large ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were many doors leading off from the main hall, too many to count, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these doors. Harry, Tentadora, and Hagrid made their way to an empty counter.

"Morning" greeted Hagrid to the goblin in from of them. The goblin nodded in response, closing the large ledger he was writing in.

"Morning" the goblin's voice was raspy, like sandpaper, "How can I help you today?"

"We would like a currency exchange!" Tentadora sprung forward, her face quite close to the goblin's as she leaned over the counter. Harry didn't look around, but he could tell a majority of the goblins and their wizard patrons stopped what they were doing, and were directing attention towards the little scene that Tentadora was making.

"D-do you have the amount you wish to exchange?" Harry had to give the goblin credit for trying to gaze his sight away from Tentadora's tits, seeing as how they were a few inches from his face. Harry did put emphasis on the word _try_ though.

"Let's see...it should be in here somewhere" The last of the goblin's defenses, probably the defenses of everyone in the room, shattered as Tentadora reached once more into the crevice of her breasts. Harry swore he could see stream coming from the goblin's ears as he stared at Tentadora fumbling within her tits.

"Ah! Here it is" She withdrew a small sack and presented it to the goblin, "Sir? Are you okay?"

"I can die happy now" muttered the goblin underneath his breath as he wiped the blood flowing from his nose with a handkerchief. He then placed it back into his breast pocket and took the bag from Tentadora's hand, emptying its contents on the table. His eyes widened as he took in the small pile of rubies that came from within the bag. Counting them and then scooping them up, he weighed each one, writing onto a piece of parchment each time before removing the stone and picking up another one. At the end of it all - he whispered to a goblin standing nearby, who then ran off before returning with a small sack.

"The value of your stones should be in there, converted into the appropriate currency" explained the goblin as Tentadora pocketed the bag into, you guessed it - the crevice between her tits. "We've applied an enlargening spell on the bag to fit all the coins inside. Do not be fooled by its size"

"Must've been quite a lot" said Tentadora.

"Thank you for banking with Gringotts" replied the Goblin briskly before directing his attention to Hagrid, "Now what can I do for you?"

"I've got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest and handing the sealed letter to the goblin after he took it out of his large coat, "It's about the You-Know-What down in vault seven-hundred and thirteen"

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well, This seems to be in order," he said, handing the letter back to Hagrid, "I will have someone escort you down to your vault. Griphook!"

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" asked Harry as they waited for Griphook to arrive.

"Can't tell yeh that" said Hagrid mysteriously, "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Headmaster's trusted me. More'n my job's worth to tell yeh that. Sorry"

Eventually, Griphook, who was another goblin, came running to them. He stopped suddenly when he saw Tentadora and Harry standing next to Hagrid.

"Apologizes, but your compatriots are going to have to stay in the main lobby. Company policies. I hope you can understand"

"Of course" replied Tentadora cheerfully, grabbing onto Harry's arm and pointing to one of the white couches set up for customers to sit down while they waited for their turn on a counter, "We'll just wait here. Is that okay?"

"Of course, miss" Griphook gave them both a low bow before ushering Hagrid to follow him. Hagrid looked almost - pained to see them go.

"Hurry back to me, okay~~?" Called out Tentadora flirtatiously. As Hagrid walked off with Griphook, his face a bright red underneath all that hair, Tenatadora and Harry sat on the couch, squeezing between a wizard holding an owl cage and a witch with her daughter. Tentadora pulled out a compact mirror, checking her lipstick, while Harry pulled out his book from before and sunk into the comfortable couch to read. Somehow, while the bustle and activity of the building returned to normal, Harry was able to get the distinction that numerous eyes would constantly cast their way, most of it aimed at Tentadora.

Harry sighed. Now, just to wait for Hagrid to come back.

* * *

Hagrid came back quicker than they thought, though he did look a little green at the end. They left together and were soon standing in front of the steps leading into Gringotts.

"Well..." He paused for a moment as he took deep breaths within leaning against the white marble pillar, "This where ah leave yeh. Gotta head back ter Hogwarts an' finish off the rest of ma' chores. Enjoy yeh time at Diagon Alley"

"Now..." Tentadora squeezed herself next to him and clutched his oversized arm, "What kind of gentleman are you to leave a woman and her child all on their lonesome on a street they know nothing about? Shame on you" She pouted cutely, obviously teasing him about her disappointment.

"Ah can't ma'am. The Headmaster expects me ter be back before-" He trailed off as Tentadora's brought her look of longingcloser and closer to his face.

"Fine..." He capitulated. Tentadora squealed in excitement and joy, "But yah gonna have'ta let me go get a pick-me-up up in the Cauldron. I hate those blasted Gringott carts. Hope yeh don't mind."

"None whatsoever. In fact..." She latched herself to his arm. "I'll come along with you. Ovid, darling, can you do the shopping on your own?"

"Sure..." Harry could see that he was quickly becoming a third wheel in whatever romance plan Tentadora had cooked up in her mind. Best that he head off now before things get even more awkward.

"Won't be too long," said Hagrid as Tentadora pushed some coins into his satchel, "Best get yeh uniform for now. _Madam Malkins_ should have what yeh need"

"Sure"

"Gold ones are Galleons! Silvers are Sickles. Bronze are Knuts!" called out Hagrid to Harry as Tentadora skipped back to the Leaky Cauldron, dragging Hagrid along with her, "We'll be quick. Just-"

Harry didn't hear him as he entered _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions,_ shutting the door behind him before he could hear the rest of what Hagrid had to say.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked before Harry was able to speak up. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact"

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long, black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipping a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hullo," said the boy, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," replied Harry.

"My father's next door buying my book and Mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice, "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow"

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley, and Bosswick before Harry caved the latter's face in for being a prick. Though, he had to admire how the boy was able to say this in full view of two adult witches.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry, wondering how in Satan's name they were able to be comfortable on those things. Honestly, they looked like they had a pole shoved inbetween their legs. Factor in the power of gravity, and ouch!

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," said Harry again.

 _Sounds stupid though_ said the voice in his head, _Like your face!_

"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry again. At this point, he was just saying no to everything the spoiled little brat in front of him was saying. Most it probably wasn't even going into his head.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being a Hufflepuff, I think I'll leave, wouldn't you?"

Harry was sure he saw the witch pinning the boy's robes flinched for a moment. In the corner of his eye, he saw her reverse the pin in her hand like she was holding a knife before she was chastised by Madam Malkin with a click of her tongue.

"I say, look at those two!" said the boy suddenly, nodding towards the front window. Hagrid and Tentadora were standing there, grinning at him and pointing at the three ice-creams in their hands to show they couldn't come in.

"The man's Hagrid," said Harry, "He works at Hogwarts"

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

"He's a gamekeeper," said Harry, growing irritable towards the boy's attitude.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's sort of a _savage -_ lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting his bed on fire. I hear he even set his own bed on fire with the headmaster present. Though some rumors say the headmaster was drunk like him and actually encouraged him to do so"

"Is that so?" For once, Harry actually locked that bit of information in his head, "Well I think he a rather splendid fellow"

" _Do_ you?" the boy sneered, "Why's your mother caressing his arm like that them?"

He pointed to the fact that Tentadora was rather _suggestively_ trailing her fingers up and down Hagrid's arm.

"She's not my mother, she's my nanny" groaned Harry.

"Your nanny?" said the boy with disbelief towards Harry, "You have a nanny?! Nevermind that, why are _they_ with you then? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead" replied Harry quietly.

"Oh, sorry," said the boy, not sounding sorry at all, "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

"I don't know much about my parents," said Harry rather annoyed as turned to the boy, "Just what do you mean by - _our_ kind?"

"You know, Purebloods," said the boy as if that was the most obvious thing in the world, "Father thinks that they shouldn't let the other sort in, I think I agree with him"

"What _other sort_ are you talking about?"

"You know, Mudbloods" spat the boy. The mood in the room got colder as the boy continued to talk while the witches continued their work in respectful silence, "They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine that. I think they should just keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

Before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry hopped down from his stool. Letting Madam Malkin remove the long robes, he stepped forward and extended a hand out to the boy.

"Name's Picus. Ovid Picus," said Harry.

"Picus" The boy repeated his fabricated surname as he shook Harry's hand, "I've never heard of a pureblood family with that name"

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to know" Harry relished that small feeling of joy he got from the boy's confusion, "After all...I'm one of the _other sorts"_

Madam Malkin and the witch measuring the boy hitched their breaths, watching in anticipation as the boy grew pale. Harry saw him instinctively wipe his hands on the robes as if he felt disgusted by just touching Harry.

"How hilarious," said Harry sarcastically, "You can't touch a _Mudblood_. But you can have a fucking conversation with them"

He treaded the waters a bit, prodding the boy to see how he would react.

He reacted as he expected him to, his face growing an ugly shade of purple as he struggled to contain his anger in the presence of two adult witches. Eventually, when he spoke again, the voice was strained but controlled.

"Malfoy," said the boy slowly, "Draco Malfoy. You'd better remember it."

"Oh I will" chuckled Harry as he leaned forward and spoke softly into Malfoy's ears, "I can't wait for school to start. This is the start of a _very_ interesting friendship"

He guffawed as he pulled back, watching the boy glare at him darkly. Walking over to the counter by the door, Harry paid Madam Malkin the amount she told him, collected his parcels, and then left, the tinkling of the bell above the shop completely contrasting the ambiance of the shop he left.

"How'd it go, Harry? asked Hagrid and Tentadora as they handed him an ice-cream, a two scooped cookie and creams on a cone.

"Meh. As you would expect it to" replied Harry, licking his ice-cream and enjoying the chocolate a little more than he expected.

* * *

After Harry bought his robes, the group went into a stationery shop and bought the appropriate quills and ink bottles that Harry would need for his time at Hogwarts. Harry weighted the quills in his hand, annoyed that he would have to teach himself to write using the instrument. Honestly, pens exist! Wouldn't it easier if they didn't have to worry about splotching the ink and refilling the quill up with ink every time they ran out?

Afterward, they bought his school books at a store called _Flourish and Blotts_ where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of sigils and runes and a few books that had nothing in them at all, but would only appear if the owner was present - according to the person selling the books. Harry also bought an extra book, labeled _Curses and Counter Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenge: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more)_ by Professor Viridian.

"It's for Damian" explained Harry to Tentadora and Hagrid as he tucked the book into his satchel while he carried the rest of his books in his arms.

Hagrid and Harry wouldn't let Tentadora buy a solid gold cauldron for Harry ("But we have so much money!" "Doesn't matter, it says pewter on the list") but she did compensate by getting him a cool looking scale for weighing potion ingredients made of brass and etched with snake symbols; as well as a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited an apothecary to buy him a standard kit of basic potions ingredients. As Hagrid and Tentadora bartered with the man, Harry had a look at some of the fascinating items for sale; which included things such as dragon's blood (Fifty Galleons a vial), rue flowers (ten sickles a bundle) and minuscule, glittery beetle eyes which reminded Harry of Hagrid's eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

While they were there, they also bought a pair of dragonskin gloves and, to Tentadora's insistence, a set of crystal vials instead of glass ones.

"All's left is yeh wand," said Hagrid as they left the shop together, checking the list "Unless o' course yeh want a pet"

"Nah, I think I'm good" replied Harry politely while waving his hand, "Don't think I'll be able to take of it"

"If you say so," shrugged Hagrid, crossing the pet option off Harry's list, "Right, Ollivander's it is then. Best place ter get a wand and yeh gotta have a good wand if yeh to get through Hogwarts"

The last shop, _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC,_ was a narrow and shabby-looking shop, it's window featuring a single wand that sat upon a faded purple cushion. The bell rang as the group of three stepped through, taking extra care with the packages Harry was carrying. It was a tiny place, completely stocked to the brim with wands that sat in boxes stacked on the numerous cabinets. A single chair was the only other thing in the room than wands, to which Hagrid offered to a grateful Tentadora.

Harry felt strange, as if though he had entered a very strict library. The silence and dust in the room in here seemed to tingle with secret magic, which made his heightened demonic sense even more frazzled.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry looked up, and to his amazement, an old man standing on a ladder slid into view. He was a very wispy-looking man, with wide, pale eyes that shone like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello, sir," said Harry respectfully. The man stared at Harry for a while, making him feel quite awkward as the man's gazed pierced through him like a laser beam.

"So it is true," whispered Ollivander, "Harry Potter lives once more"

The moment the man spoke those words, Harry felt his blood chill like ice. He turned to Tentadora, who also had the same shocked expression on her face, but the one really hit him the hardest was the face that Hagrid made. It looked like a combination of confusion, sadness, hope, and fear. But there was a glint of recognition in those eyes as his beady black eyes made contact with Harry's emerald ones.

"Harry?" croaked Hagrid, like someone had choked him and he was struggling to speak. The tears were forming on the corner of his eyes.

Instinctively, Harry cracked his fingers and the blinds to all the windows closed on their own, bathing the room in darkness apart from the small chandelier that hung from above them all. Another snap and the lock to the door clicked in place, as well as the sign out front which flipped to say the shop was closed.

"Sorry, safety precautions" warned Harry to Hagrid before turning his attention back to the man who discovered his identity, "What gave it away?" asked Harry.

"I remember every wand that I have ever made, Mr. Potter," said Ollivander quietly as he got off the ladder and walked closer to Harry, "It is therefore natural that I know the faces and features of the witches and wizards that have ever purchased an Ollivander wand"

"I'm guessing you discovered who I am from the features of my dead parents?" Harry stared directly back into those wispy orbs.

"Yes. You look remarkably like your father, had he not worn glasses. You also have your mother's eyes, but I think the biggest distinguishing feature is your hair. Black and Red. Just like your father and your mother" Ollivander frowned, "You knew that your parents were our kind?"

"It wasn't hard to figure it out" shrugged Harry, "My powers didn't come from nowhere, it had to come from somewhere. I had acquaintances who possessed magical abilities. All it took was a few questions to figure out what I was"

"I see..." he raised a hand, "Before I can sell you a wand, I must see you for what you really are. That way I can keep track of those that have ever bought a wand from me. Ministry paperwork and all, of course."

Harry sighed. "Very well" Harry reached up and removed the ring on his right hand. The moment he pulled off the device, a rune appeared at his feet and fire shot out from it. The fire produced no heat, but it did burn away the fake skin he was wearing, and exposed his true demonic self for all of the occupants in the shop to see"

"Merlin's beard," said Ollivander, blinking for the first time since Harry arrived in the shop.

"Blimey" whispered Hagrid in the background.

"Do I terrify you?" asked Harry as he stretched his neck and rubbed his eyes, grunting in approval to the cracking sounds of his bones.

"Somewhat, my dear child," said Ollivander as he took out a notebook and begun writing Harry's features down, "I do not know what happened to you to warrant such features, but this is substantial enough. Which is your wand arm?"

"You mean my dominant hand? It's my right"

He tucked the notebook away and walked over to his wand cabinet. As he did so, a measuring tape with silver markings slid from his sleeves and crawled over to Harry like a snake. As it measured his arms at its own volition, Ollivander explained to Harry the basis of wands while removing a few boxes from the shelves.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tailfeathers and dragon heartstrings. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizards' wand"

Ollivander removed a box and opened it to peer into its contents, "You father favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more powerful, and excellent for transfiguration. Your mother preferred a wand made of willow. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, and a nice wand for charm work. I say favored and preferred - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course"

Olivander's eyes shifted to Hagrid, which brightened up considerably, "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again...Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes" replied Hagrid rather tearily as he glanced at Harry. Tentadora wrapped a comforting arm around him. Well, around his waist at least.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er - yes, they did, yes," Hagrid shuffled his feet, "Ah still got the pieces, though"

Harry noticed he was holding onto his pink umbrella rather tightly when he said that. Ollivander gave him a suspicious look but moved on as he descended from the ladder with a stack of wand boxes.

"Here we are," said Ollivander slowly as he removed the first wand from its box and brown paper, "Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Take it and give it a wave"

Harry took the wand and waved it around. When nothing happened, Ollivander snatched it from his hands.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -"

Harry tried again. And when nothing happened, the wand was abruptly snatched from his hands again.

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple, an unusual combination. Try - "

So Harry tried and tried again, each time nothing happening as they wands were constantly ripped from his hands. The pile of neglected wands grew and grew, though Ollivander seemed to get more and more excited as the pile he selected for Harry slowly dwindled.

"Last one, Mr. Potter," said Ollivander as he handed Harry a creamy, white wand, "Pine and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Solid"

As Harry's clawed fingers closed around the grip of the wand, he left a strange sensation shoot throughout his arms. Grasping his arm to stabilize it, he saw his hand shake erratically as the wand began shooting small sparks of light from it. As he gave it a small flick, a large ball of white light shot out of it and flew onto the ceiling, before bursting into a multitude of colors like a firework.

Tentadora and a stunned Hagrid clapped enthusiastically. Harry looked down in amazement as he felt the wand vibrate. It was like the wand was moving on its own accords, singing as it finally found it's destined owner and providing warmth throughout his whole hand.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good" Ollivander took the wand from Harry's hand and placed it back into the box with its brown paper, "We all expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. Sum total comes together at seven galleons for the wand"

"It's that cheap?" asked Tentadora as she pulled out the necessary coins and handled them to Mr. Ollivander, "It cost us quite a pretty penny just for a mere spellbook"

"I've inherited a substantial amount of gold, my dear child" Ollivander took the gold from her hands and placed then in a small tin he took out from underneath the counter, "It's enough for me to live comfortably enough. My family makes wands for people, not for profit"

"Huh...how swell"

Mr. Ollivander slid the enclosed box over to Harry. Before he could retract his hand, however, Harry placed a hand on top of his.

"Mr. Potter?" Ollivander tried to retract his hand, but Harry held on with ever-increasing strength.

"Please, do not send my file up to the Ministry," said Harry seriously.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Mr. Potter. It is the law after all"

"I'm not saying that you can never send it up. Just don't do it at this moment"

Ollivander raised an eyebrow, "Have something to hide, Mr. Potter?"

Harry ignored his question, "Just, wait until the school year starts"

Harry looked directly into Ollivander's silver eyes. Ollivander stared directly back into Harry's emerald ones, examining the symbols that replaced his pupils. For the briefest of moments, the two of them shared a staring contest, until Ollivander nodded slowly.

"Very well, Mr. Potter," said the wandmaker sadly.

"That is all I ask for," said Harry as he placed the wand into his satchel and slid the ring onto his finger, the fires enveloping his body once again and placing his disguise over him, "Thank you, again, for the wand"

Harry then walked out of the store (after unlocking the door, of course), followed by Hagrid and Tentadora. When the door finally shut behind them, the blinds and sign flipped back to the original position of their own volition. Ollivander stood in his position stunned, wondering how the boy was able to produce magic without using a wand.

"Harry Potter...just what have you become?"

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Harry, Hagrid, and Tentadora make their way back through the archway, through the Leaky Cauldron, and back onto the main street of Charles Cross. As they walked, seemingly without any clear direction, each of them remained silent, lost in their own thoughts.

Hagrid was the first to speak up, pointing to a sign that took them to a small park. Now, this park was much smaller than the park back in Safe Haven, but it was enough for them to get some privacy as they settled underneath a gazebo to talk.

"Hagrid, listen, I-" Tentadora trailed off as Hagrid sunk to his knees and took Harry into a bone-crushing hug. It didn't hurt him as much, but it did make him lose his breath and struggle to breathe. Tentadora seeing as how this was a conversation she wasn't needed in, busied herself by stacking Harry's packages onto the picnic table.

"Hagrid?" asked Harry, concerned when he heard and felt the tears from Hagrid come from him.

"Yeh alive, yeh alive" repeated Hagrid over and over, "All these years. And yeh've been alive the whole time"

"Yeaah, about that, Hagrid" replied Harry patiently, patting the half giant's elbow, "I take it I have something to do with that 'someone' you knew that died long ago?"

"Yes..." Hagrid detached himself from Harry and clapped him on the shoulders, causing his knees to buckle slightly underneath the force, "Las' time I saw yeh, you's was only a wee baby. Ah had you in mer' arms as I took you to your uncle and aunt. Delicate little thing yeh were"

"After my parents died...of course! But why you? What relations did you have with my parents?" pressed Harry.

"Ah knew them both. Yah parents - they were killed by a Dark Wizard - very powerful, very evil" Hagrid gulped and looked around cautiously, "We call him You-Know-Who, cause he was so terrifying, and his deed so evil, that none of us dared utter his name"

"They were murdered? The Dursley's said they died in a car accident!"

"Car crash?! Damned Dursleys" Hagrid snorted and shook his head, "They's were somma the finest wizards and witches of our time. One of the rare few that stood up to You-Know-Who. Guess that's why he hunted them down, And then...h-he killed them."

Hagrid drew a handkerchief and blew into it, making the sounds of a blocked trumpet. "Anyhow. You-Know-Who killed them. An' then - an' this is ter real myst-ry of the thing - he tried to kill you too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, ah suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' then. But he didn't. Or maybe he couldn't. Vanished that night, never to be seen again. Either way, when ah arrived at yeh house - it was ruined. Blown to smithereens. Ah fished yeh outta there, and then took ya there your uncle and aunt on ter orders of ter headmaster" He sniffled, "So how? How are yeh still alive? Ah was there when they placed your body in ter grave. How come yeh still here? In the flesh and all?"

"About that..." Harry laughed nervously as he fiddled with his hair, "I did die that day. Killed myself. But I'm not exactly dead, per say"

"Then what are yeh?"

"That I cannot tell you," said Harry sadly, "Not yet, anyway. But know this" He gave Hagrid a sympathetic smile, "If you've ever beaten yourself up over my death, ever regretted handing me over to my uncle and aunt that night, know that I hold nothing against you. In fact, I should be thanking you"

Obviously Hagrid wasn't expecting a hug back from Harry, but he returned it nonetheless. On the outside, Tentadora cooed, squealing about how cute they looked and about how much she wished she had a camera to capture the moment.

Hagrid soon departed after that, waving goodbye to both of them as he walked off. Harry and Tentadora returned his wave, staying behind in the gazebo to rearrange Harry's packages before the too went home.

"So how was your date today?" asked Harry as he handed her his robes.

"Oh, it went marvelously" replied Tentadora dreamily, "He is _so_ much better than all of the men and women I've slept with. Did you hear about how he wrestled a forest troll into submission? What a man!"

"So, you think there is something between you two?"

"Who knows?" shrugged Tentadora, "Ah shoot...I forgot to get his contact details! Anyways, I wouldn't mind it. Honestly, I have a better chance with him than with pixie sticks"

Harry agreed with that statement. Honestly, Major Styx had a better chance with Hilda than Tentadora. He looked up to see her give a hand to him.

"Ready to go home?"

Home...

"Yeah, I'm ready" Nodding, Harry took her hand and the two of them walked off together.

Back home. To Safe Haven.

 **Author Notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've made several changes to the story, based on how I think things would work out if Harry had spent three years training in Hell. These will have resounding impacts on the larger story, so stay tuned for more chapters to come soon.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I do not own any of the characters from the Zoophobia and Harry Potter canon. They are the rightful property of Vivienne Madrano and J.K Rowling respectively.**

 **Chapter 11: The Journey from Platform Nine and Three Quarters.**

It was the sounds of light knocks against his door that broke Harry's concentration. Placing his new creamy, white wand down on his table, Harry walked over to his bedroom door and opened it, greeted by the sight of Damian standing outside.

"Heya, Harry." waved Damian. The jackal demon was a lot bigger now, a few inches taller than Harry, which was to be expected since he was older by one year. He had two large cases in his hands as well as a medium-sized package wrapped in grey paper, "Is this a bad time?"

"Not at all," Harry swung his door wide open, allowing Damian to walk in, "I wasn't doing much anyway."

Damian walked in and whistled as he took in the scenery, "Wow! You actually listen to Hilda. My room's always a mess no matter how much I try to clean it."

Harry shrugged his shoulder. Damian's room being just a mess was an understatement. It was so bad that Harry swore he saw Hilda walk out of it once with a gas mask after she **tried** to clean it. No matter how much she chastised Damian over and over about cleaning his room, he either always seemed to forget or wouldn't put a lot of effort into it. Seems he learned a lot from Tentadora.

Harry's room, on the other hand, was a complete contrast from Damian's. Since he had his responsibilities as a Royal Guard Initiate, he didn't have much time to accumulate many worldly possessions, nor stay in his room for a long time. Barbatos would always drag him out of his room early in the morning for training, and he would be too tired afterward he returned in the night to do anything other than sleep.

His room was rather bare, having no windows as he was located in the lower levels of Satan's estate. It consisted of a standard bed, a few drawers, and cabinets that were empty except for his Initiate uniforms. A work desk was also near his bed, which was where he stored his vast collection of books on a shelf above the table.

Damian walked over and climbed onto Harry's bed, sighing in relief as he sunk his head into the fluffy pillows, whilst stashing his banjo to the side. Harry sat back down on his swivel chair and directed his attention back to his wand.

There was silence between the two of them.

Now, from an outsider's perspective, they would see it as awkward, but it was a rather common thing between Harry and Damian. Sometimes Damian would just come in and lie on Harry's bed. Harry would acknowledge his presence, but would instead focus on whatever assignment was given to him by Barbatos. They didn't need to talk to one another or ask each other what was wrong.

Just being with one another was enough to provide some comfort to whatever ails them.

"Are you all packed up?" asked Damian out of the blue, breaking the silence between them.

"Yeah, I did," Harry gestured to the trunk that contained all his school equipment sitting near the door. All of the items he needed were cramped into the thing. He might've needed more suitcases, but his lack of personal items meant he only needed one trunk to hold everything.

"Why didn't you pack your wand with the rest of your stuff?"

"Though I might fool around with it a bit before I head off. Get a feel for how things work"

"And does it work?"

"Meh, leaves much to be desired." Harry twirled his wand between his finger, "I tried using demon arts on it the first time and it failed spectacularly. Funny enough, the more I try to use demon arts on it, the better it gets at projecting it. The wand's almost like a child being taught to walk for the first time"

Harry noticed the dark look that Damian had on his face, "What? What's up with you?"

"Nothing's up with me," said Damian rather tensely, "I just...I can't help but think. Do you really want to go to this, Hogwarts, this magic school on the Outside?"

...

"What?" asked Harry with genuine curiosity. He knew that Damian wasn't exactly the happiest when Harry got his letter, but this question of his threw him off completely, "What are you talking about?"

"Because I don't understand why you are risking your life and existence just to learn magic from - **those people** " Damian spat that out rather bitterly, before jumping down from the bed and staring eye-level with Harry. Within his orbs, Harry saw a fire unlike any he'd ever seen before, "Those bastards on the Outside are the ones that drove you to death in the first place! remember? You already have a life here with us in Safe Haven; with me, Tentadora, Styx, Hilda, Hestia, the sisters - heck, even Bozzwick if I want to be generous! If you want to learn magic, just ask Barbatos or some of those African wizards in Safe Haven. Why risk exposing who you are on the Outside? Do you really think they'd act all peachy once they find out they have a demon walking amongst their midst?"

"Your father found a way to counter that," responded Harry, brandishing his ring in Damian's face, "As long as I wear this on my finger, then the humans would be none the wiser"

"And your name?"

"Will have to use an alias until the time I would really need to reveal myself" replied Harry, "It's not like I'm famous or anything. Sure, I may have had parents that were connected to the wizarding world, but I died rather lonely with no one caring about me. It's not like there was a massive uproar just because I died. When I reveal who I really am, then they'll just go - _Oh! Turns out he didn't die -_ And then move on"

"But if they believe that you died - then why did you get a letter from them?" argued Damian.

"Who knows?" shrugged Harry, raising his wand up, "Magic, perhaps? I don't know how the wizarding world works. Heck, I didn't even realize there was a wizarding world hidden on the Outside until now. I thought the only wizards and witches in this world were all in Safe Haven" Harry looked over to Damian sympathetically, resting his head in hand, "Look, I appreciate the concern you have for me. But what is really about?"

Damian looked to the side, purposefully trying to look at something other than Harry's eyes. His knees fidgeted and rubbed together, along with his hand. It was a habit that Harry noticed Damian picked up, whenever he was nervous about hiding something.

"Well?"

"Z-..." mumbled Damian.

"I'm sorry. What was that?" asked Harry again, only getting the first letter of what Damian said, "You're going to have to speak up"

"ZPA" pouted Damian a little louder.

"Zoo Phoenix Academy? What does that have to do with anything?" Harry knew about the academy. It was an iconic educational symbol of Safe Haven, situated right in the middle of the city, catering to all students from every walk of life, regardless of species, gender, sexuality, nor socio-economic situation. It was a school that fostered and lived up to the image of Safe Haven as a sanctuary to all creatures.

"It has to do with everything," said Damian exasperatedly, "Don't you remember the promise we made? You and me. The two of us were going to go and enroll together at Zoo Phoenix once we got older!"

Oh, shit. He'd forgotten about that. What with the hustle and bustle of preparing for his enrollment into Hogwarts, Harry completely forgotten about his promise to go to ZPA with Damian.

"What of it? I'm sure you can still go. Hestia's applying soon, isn't she?" said Harry weakly, feeling extremely guilty with himself.

"But she will be in the year group above me by the time I start" replied Damian miserably, his ears laying flat, "You're the only friend that I've ever had. Other kids - they take one look at me and they immediately back off. If you go off to this magic school of yours, I'll be left behind by myself. What do you think would happen if I go in there and they find out I'm the Anti-Christ?" he looked back at Harry sadly, "I want to go to Zoo Phoenix. I want to go to Safe Haven. But I also want to go with **you**. I know it's selfish of me to say this, but please stay! I can't go to school without you!"

Watching Damian mop around sadly, Harry sighed and stood up from his chair, walking over before putting an arm around Damian.

"You're right," said Harry slowly and carefully, as to not provoke Damian too much.

"I...I am?" Damian's ears sprung up and he looked slightly happier, "You'll stay?"

"No"

And just like that, Damian's mood deflated like a balloon. Harry knew that he had only one opportunity to rectify this, so he had to be very careful with what he said next.

"You're right in the sense that if I wanted to learn magic, I could have easily done it here. We have so many accomplished wizards, witches, and magical practitioners. Daxler, Barbatos, even the Devil Sisters know more magic than me and would probably be willing to teach me" Harry smiled to himself as he thought back to the heel they would drag him through when they played a game of hide-and-seek together, "I lied. I'm going with your father's orders, not because of my Oath - which is just a small factor, really. No, the reason I'm going because I want to see the wizarding world"

"Why bother? Safe Haven already has all of that to offer" said Damian.

"That's true. But that's just it. Safe Haven already has it. It's all there. It's...familiar." Harry lifted his wand up so that Damian could see it too, "I used to think that my first life was mundane, that it was useless. That there was nothing to live for but constant beatings and bullying by my family. That's why I killed myself in the first place. To break free from the shackles. But now, I find out there's an entirely different world out there. Better yet, I have some form of connection to it. I want to see it. Experience it if I must"

Harry grasped Damian's cheeks and pulled them over so that they could look at one another eye-to-eye. "You say that you're selfish for wanting to hold me back? Well, I can say the same thing to myself - I'm selfishly leaving you behind on your own to pursue my own endeavors, to explore on my own and without you. I'm selfish because I never gave a thought about how you felt. And even now, despite feeling like shit after you poured your heart to me? I'm still going. I just hope you can understand why I want to go, just as my as you hoped I could understand why you wanted to hold me back"

Damian went silent. He looked to the ground so Harry couldn't see what his expression was, but he was sure he saw a tear here and there drip onto the floor.

 _Fuck. If the Queen sees I've upset her son,_ Harry grimaced as he could only imagine what she and Lucifer would do to him.

"Will you write?" asked Damian after a prolonged wait, breaking the silence.

"As much as I can. Since I can't send the message directly to Hell, I'll pass it through Hestia" said Harry, hoping that his promise would give Damian some form of comfort.

"That's all I hope for" Damian turned around and picked up the medium-sized package he brought when he first came in, "Here, this is for you. Something to...remind you of home...remind you of us by. Don't open it now, alright?"

"Care package? Thanks, Damian!" Damian gave him a cheery smile before doing something Harry didn't expect at all.

He reached up and kissed Harry on the cheek.

Harry felt the heat come to his face, something he didn't think was possible due to his demon biology causing his skin to go pale. And yet, his cheeks still warmed up. Placing a hand on where Damian's lips touched, Harry turned to Damian to request an answer, only to see Damian pulling out his banjo from one of the large cases.

"One last duet before you go?" offered Damian, also holding out Harry's violin for him - which he removed from the last large case, "For memory's sake?"

Harry smiled.

"Sure" he replied, taking the bone-white violin from Damian's hand.

* * *

"This is bullshit!"

Patrons sitting in the cafe shot Harry dirty glares as Harry swore out loud. Harry paid them no mind, instead, more focused on the piece of paper he held in his hand as he sipped his coffee.

It was his pathway into the wizarding world. A ticket that came in his envelope, marking the eleven o'clock train he was supposed to take in order to get to the school of Hogwarts. Only problem?

It was marked as platform nine and three-quarters. What the hell was platform nine and three-quarters?

After arriving in London airport and disembarking from Snake's plane, Harry checked his watch and saw that it was around nine o'clock in the morning. Seeing that he was stressed on time, he bided Snake a quick goodbye before taking a taxi straight to King's Cross Station. Arriving at the station at ten o'clock, Harry immediately found a trolley to put his only trunk on, as well as the package he got from Damian, opting to search for the train to get on early.

To his eternal frustration, he found no such platform marked nine and three-quarters. He did find platform nine, and he found platform ten, but nothing laid in between them. Thinking, that maybe platform nine and three-quarters were in another section of the station, Harry began walking around with his trolley, trying to find the elusive train. His frustration only grew even more as his constant walks around the station yielded him no results other than a sore foot and growing hunger. He stopped a passing guard and asked about platform nine and three-quarters, but the guard only shot him a look as if he was daft or being stupid on purpose. Seeing that the number of the platform was only getting him worried looks, Harry instead asked about the train heading to Hogwarts, but the guard said he never even heard of such a place. The guard grew even more annoyed with Harry when he couldn't tell him what part of the country Hogwarts was in.

"Is there any train that departs at eleven o'clock?" asked Harry, growing ever more desperate and irritated, both with the challenge of finding the damn platform, and the guard's attitude.

"There is no train that departs at eleven o'clock" replied the guard coldly. With that, the guard strode away, muttering about time-wasters underneath his breath. Harry stood there as still as a statue, the blood flowing to his head like crazy as his anger reached a boiling point.

Harry didn't even look at the guard as he snapped his fingers. He instead walked towards one of the station cafes with his trolley, but he did hear the guard cry out in pain as he was tripped over by an invisible force.

Buying a sandwich and a small coffee from the vendor, Harry sat down at one of the plastic tables set out and pulled out his letters as he ate, reading them over and over in the hope of finding any instructions that may give a clue to platform nine and three-quarters. But he got nothing. His irritation grew increasingly by the lack of instructions on the papers. Honestly, if the magic school was accepting students who came from non-wizarding families, the least they could do was provide proper instructions on how to get to the school.

 _I swear. This is discrimination_ , Harry's thoughts went back to the point that the boy named Draco said in _Madam Malkin's._

 _They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways._

 _Well no shit you asshat! You never even gave instructions to being with!_ Harry's mouth grew dry as the minutes ticked away, closer to the eleven o'clock mark. Just twenty minutes to go. If he couldn't find the train by then, then he's stuck in London for the next few days until Snake came back for one of her supply runs. His money supplies couldn't last until then.

Downing his coffee in one shot to clear out his dry mouth, Harry departed from the cafe, pushing his trolley and preparing to start another futile search for the platform. However, as he stepped out, a single sight caught his attention.

It was a family of six, a plump woman, a little girl attached to her arm, and four males in total, all with flaming red hair. Each of the four boys was pushing a trunk, but what really got Harry's attention was the presence of a grey _owl_ in a cage sitting on top of one of the boy's trunk.

Growing curious, Harry pushed his trolley and followed behind them, no too closely, but close enough to make out the words that they were saying.

"Packed with Muggles, of course-"

 _Muggles?_

Heart hammering, Harry instinctively stepped faster, following the family all the way till they reached the space that separated platform nine from platform ten. When they stopped, Harry stopped as well, listening in on their conversation.

"Now, what's the platform number?" asked the boy's mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, who had equally flaming red hair like her brothers, "Mummy, can't I go..."

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quit. All right, Percy, you go first"

The haughtiest looking one of them, and probably the eldest, stepped forward. Harry watched, careful not to miss anything - but just as the boy reached the brick wall that acted as the divide between the two stations, a large crowd of tourists carrying rucksacks came swarming in front of him. By the time the last rucksack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, come on, you next," said the plump woman.

"He's not Fred, I am!" protested one of the boys, looking similar to the boy the plump woman had singled out. Harry was guessing these two were twins.

"Honestly, woman. And you call yourself our mother" chided his twin, shaking his head in disappointment towards his mother.

"Sorry, George. Come on then, you go first then" sighed the woman exasperatedly.

The twin, named George, stepped forwards. Just as he proceeded to run, he looked back and gave his mother a cheeky grin, "Only joking, I am Fred" said the boy, and off he went. His twin, Fred? George? promptly followed him. Harry watched in amazement as both ran through the walls, vanishing in an instant. What made it even more wonderous was that the surrounding Muggles didn't even blink, even though two boys just vanished from their eyes.

Taking a moment to calm himself down, Harry approached the plump woman. "Excuse me?" said Harry, trying to sound as polite and calm as he could.

"Hello dear, can I help you in any way?" asked the woman kindly. Her remaining children watched him curiously from behind.

"You can, actually," Harry pulled out his Hogwarts letters and showed them to her, "I've been trying to find platform nine and three-quarters for the last half hour, with no result, of course. I just so happened to recently hear you mention the platform number, and, sorry for it, but I've been following you. Now the thing is - the thing is, I don't know how to -"

"How to get on to the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded, internally cursing himself for sputtering.

"Not to worry," she said, "Hogwarts does have that problem quite a bit, especially with Muggle-born students. All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared that you'll crash, that's very important. Best do a bit of a run if you're nervous. Here, why don't you go first?"

Harry nodded, pushing his trolley ahead of the last boy's. He started to walk towards. People jostled on their way to platforms nine and ten. He walked more quickly, adrenaline rushing through his body as the solid-looking brick wall got closer and closer to him. Realizing that he was going too fast to pull out, Harry closed his eyes, expected the impact.

Instead, nothing happened...It didn't come...he kept on running...opening his eyes, what he saw gave him the distinction of running really fast through a dimly-lit tunnel. Finally, a break came through ahead and as Harry ran through it, he was greeted with the sight if a large scarlet steam engine on the other side.

A sign hung overhead, the word _Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock_ inscribed on the metal. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the brick wall had been. He had done it.

Harry looked down at the watch on his wrist, frowning when he saw he had only ten minutes left to board the train. Hoping to not waste any more time, he proceeded onwards, taking the occasional momentary glance to observe his surroundings.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of chattering crowds, while cats of every color and species skinked here and there between legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over all of the rabble and the scraping of trunks.

The first few carriages of the train were already packed with students, some hanging out of the windows to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.

Harry frowned. No...there was something off about all of this. In particular, the crowd of adults that hung around the windows where students were. While some of them were obviously parents, the vast majority were dressed in dark grey robes and waving around cameras.

 _What is the media doing here?_ Harry watched as the adults took pictures of the students, the distinctive flash of the lightbulbs illuminating the area. Some students looked distressed by it, others reveled in it. But most looked confused as their picture was taken.

Not wanting to be caught in the thick of whatever was going on, as well as not wanting his picture to be taken, Harry pushed his trolley further down the platform to find seats. There were still reporters here and there, but they were spread out so it was easier to avoid them. As he walked, he passed a round-faced boy and his fiery-looking grandma, who was arguing with one of the reporters for taking a picture of her grandson without her permission.

"Gran, I lost Trevor again," said the boy, pulling on his grandma's shawl.

"Oh, _Neville,_ " sighed the old lady, breaking out of her conversation.

Just a little further down, a small group of boys and girls surrounded a boy with dreadlocks.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on," One of the boys egged the boy with the dreadlocks on. Smirking, the boy opened the lid of his box, causing a few of the boys and girls to shriek and jump back as a hairy leg poked out.

Harry pushed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He hefted his trunk off the trolley, carrying it through the train doors and sliding it onto one of the racks above. It wasn't a large trunk as he didn't have much, so it wasn't too hard to bring in.

Sighing, Harry plopped down onto one of the seats, the fatigue from his morning endeavors quickly catching up to him. He debated opening Damian's care package for a moment, before deciding against it, favoring sleep instead.

As a precaution, in case the media came and snagged a picture of him while he was out, Harry summoned an invisible rune circle over the space opposite his window on the outside. Now if any of them caught a picture and tried to develop the film, all they would get is a white screen

Sliding up to get a little more comfortable, the last thing he saw before he went under was the plump woman and her remaining two children emerging out of the archway and reuniting with the rest of her children who went first.

* * *

Two sounds awoke Harry before he could properly get any sleep. Grumbling in annoyance, Harry pushed himself up and looked out of the window, just in time to see the train pull out of the station.

Alas, it wasn't the distant rumblings of the train's engine that awoke him from his slumber. Rather it was a soft knocking sound like something was bashing against the wall.

Looking down, Harry realized that the sound was coming from the package that Damian gave him. Even more, every time there was a knocking sound, the package would bounce up and down on his lap like there was something inside trying to get out.

"What the?" Harry reached forward cautiously, slowly ripping the grey paper to reveal the cardboard box underneath. As he opened the box, what he saw underneath almost gave him a heart attack.

A small furry creature was tucked in the box. Distinctive through its crimson and black color palette, it had massive ears easily three-quarters the size of its body, pierced with numerous earrings. Two small black horns adorned it's head, marking it as a demon of Hell.

That was pretty bad.

What made it even worse was that he knew exactly who this creature was; if it's, or her, swirled eyes and characteristical grin with rows of white razor-sharp teeth didn't immediately give it off already.

"VESPA?!"

"In the flesh" she replied, giving him a creepy smile in return, "So glad you remembered me"

Remembers her? Of course, he remembers her. Vespa, Verin, and Ventis; a trio of ironically named demon sisters that Hilda looked after in conjunction with Damian, Bozzwick, and Harry once he joined them in Hell. They were four-years when Harry first arrived, and all of them attached themselves to Harry right away, eager to rope him into one of their 'little games'.

Oh, the nightmares! He remembered one time they played a game of tag and all **three** of them chased him all around the mansion. Barbatos just stood back and laughed, saying it was a good cardio exercise for him as Harry screamed and ran from their constant teleportations.

Or the other time they wanted to dress up with him; by forcing him into a dress and subjecting him to humiliation and emotional torture for the next three hours. Oh, how Tentadora tormented him with the photos afterward.

These three. They were like little sisters that Harry never wished for. Little sisters that liked to torment others, all the while laughing in sadistic glee.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" screamed Harry.

"You know you don't have to scream, right?" Vespa rubbed her overly large ears in pain, "As for why I'm here. Weeell...you see, my sisters and Damian got together and thought that, well, since you're going to this here magic school all by yourself, You might get lonely being on your lonesome"

"Oh no" whispered Harry as the gears began to click together in his head, along with a growing sense of dread from the realization of what she was implying. So she was the 'care package' Damian gave him? What the hell was he thinking?!

"Soooo...we may have thought it would be a good idea if someone came along with you...provide that emotional support. Yah know?"

Suddenly Damian's words from before came back to haunt Harry. _Here, this is for you. Something to...remind you of home...remind you of us by. Don't open it now, alright?_

 _Oh, you absolute IDIOT!_

"Are you fucking stupid? Do you have any idea how much danger you are in doing is this?! How the fuck did you get in that box anyway?" There was no way that Harry believed it was just the demon sisters and Damian behind all of this. There had to be someone else

"We knew it was going to be dangerous. As for how I got in the box, Tentadora helped us with that," replied Vespa nonchalantly, plopping herself down on his lap and pushing the empty cardboard box away. Fucking Tentadora. Harry clicked his teeth disapprovingly as he thought of the bloody woman. Honestly, sometimes Hilda was right about her and her irresponsible nature, "She distracted Daxler long enough for us to pinch his spellbook. After that, it was a simple hibernation spell, a few holes in the cardboard box, and Damian's role in delivering me to you to get the plan to work"

"Y-you...you," Harry felt like a fish out of water, gasping for air as he tried to comprehend the situation that's hit him like a freight train, "Hilda's going to kill me. Styx is going to kill me. Screw this, get the fuck back to Hell this instant!"

"Yeeaah...about that," She looked almost sheepish, twirling the digits of her claw in circles, "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? You and your sisters teleport like crazy - fuck, you even drive **me** crazy with all your excessive teleporting" Harry was feeling extremely pissed now, "Just teleport back to Hell!"

"Well, it's just that. When we teleport, it's because the three of us pool our magic together to create the proper amount of power to complete the spells." Vespa gestured around them coolly, "Without them here with me, then I can't teleport. I can still do a little magic, but teleporting is a no-go-zone"

"So you're saying I'm stuck with you?" moaned Harry, growing more and more distressed and discomforted with the situation he found himself in.

"Yep!" replied Vespa happily, turning around and leaning against Harry's chest, "Just be happy that luck of the straws got you stuck with me instead of my sisters"

That was true. Of the three sisters, Ventis was extrovert as fuck, always in his face whenever he walked in the room and no afraid to speak and do what was on her mind. Verin was the complete opposite, introvert like crazy with a tendency to communicate with signs she randomly pulled out of her arse, making it awkward for Harry as he has to break up the flow of conversation to read the signs. Vespa, as much as he hated to think about it, was the best option for the situation he found himself in. Strong in her own right, but moderate enough for him that dealing with her when they got to Hogwarts wouldn't give him a constant migraine.

"Fine," grumbled Harry, not at all pleased with it the whole debacle, but still going on with because he couldn't think of anything to do about it, "But just so you know - once we get there? No. Trouble. Do you understand?"

"Of course," said Vespa, waving a hand dismissively, "You should know by now that I only get in trouble when I'm with my sisters. Do you really think I'm stupid enough to do that once we get to the pig-school? Don't worry. I'll **stick** to you like glue"

Harry gulped. He sure didn't like what she said, nor how she said it; leering at him and showing off her shiny white jaws. But before he could offer a rebuttal, the door to his compartment suddenly opened.

It was the youngest red-headed boy from before.

"Is anyone else sitting here?" asked the boy shyly, pointing the seat directly opposite to Harry.

 ** _"Yes, there is, now buzz off ginger,"_** said Vespa rudely in Harry's head.

"No...why do you ask?" replied Harry while shaking his head, ignoring Vespa's protests in his head.

"Everywhere else is full" replied the boy sadly. Harry noticed that he was holding his scruffy-looking trunk.

 _ **"Harry, what are you doing? Tell him to buzz off before he finds out what I am!"**_ Vespa did have a point there, but against Harry's better judgment, he decided to let the boy come in, nudging him to the seat opposite him with his head.

The boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending hadn't looked when harry stared directly back at him. Harry frowned. Had the boy seen Vespa? Was he terrified by what he saw? Is that why he's so hesitant to initiate a conversation?

 _ **"I don't like the looks of this,"**_ said Vespa. Harry didn't either, seriously regretting letting the boy come in. For the moment, he debated casting a rune circle underneath the boy to control him, forcing him to leave. Before he could, however, the doors to his compartment opened up again.

"Hey, Ron"

The twins, Fred and George, were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there"

"Right" mumbled the boy, now named Ron. The twins looked towards Harry, who watched the exchange between the brothers.

"Hey you, cool-looking pet rabbit. By the way, I'm Fred and this here is George" said one of the boys, thumping his twin on the chest.

"What?! No, I'm Fred! You're George!" replied his twin, thumping him back.

"Am I?" The two of them laughed between themselves, "Anyway, this here is Ron, our brother" He gestured to the silent boy, "Look after ickle Ronnie for us, while ya?"

"Shut up," said Ron moodily. The door closed and the room returned to silence, which suited Harry just fine as he had better things to worry about.

Such as the female demon sitting on his lap.

 _"What is it?"_ said Harry in his mind as he looked down to see Vespa poking his hand.

 _ **"Did you see the nerve of that guy? How dare he call me a rabbit!"**_

 _"Well, he's not wrong. You kinda look like a rabbit"_ Harry looked at the ring on his finger _"Looks like the ring extends its effects to other demons as well. I don't know how big the area of effect is, but I think it may be best for the moment that you stick closely with me"_

 _ **"You want me to stick closer? - huh"**_

 _"What are you doing"_ Harry shrunk back as Vespa pushed herself into his hand.

 _ **"You heard him. I'm your pet. Now pet me!"**_

 _"Are you bloody daft? Why the hell would I do something that degrading to you?"_ Vespa ignored his protests and just pushed harder into his hand.

 _ **"Enough talk. More petting"**_

Seeing no way to get out of this, Harry capitulated. Sighing, he reached a hand forward and pressed it over her head. Making sure to not apply too much pressure, he began to gently scratch her. As he did so, he felt Vespa shutter underneath.

 _ **"Ooooohhh shhiiiitt..."**_ moaned Vespa, panting slightly, _**"That...feels good...better than I expected..."**_

"You like that, don't you girl?" said Harry out loud, forgetting to speak to her with his mind. His fingers dug in a little deeper, right into the area around her horns.

 _ **"Ooooohhh yeaaahhh...I like it veeery much~~"**_

Smiling, Harry looked up to see Ron looking at them curiously.

"What is it?" asked Harry, still stroking and petting Vespa who squealed with delight.

"Nothing," said the boy quickly, diverting his attention away from Harry, "It's just...you have a cool rabbit. That's all"

"You have a pet too?" asked Harry, remembering the mention of pets in his Hogwarts letters.

"Yeah, I do" The boy reached into his pockets and withdrew a fat, grey rat, which was asleep.

"His name is Scabbers. Pathetic, isn't he? Useless, and he hardly ever wakes up. He was my brother Percy's, see, but Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a Prefect. They couldn't aff- I mean, they gave me Scabbers instead" He turned and looked away, embarrassed. "I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley."

"Ovid Picus. This here is Vespa," remarked Harry, gesturing to Vespa. "I can only imagine your circumstance, must be hard, living with three brothers and a sister"

"Five," said Ron, looking gloomy, "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I have a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of the Quidditch team. Now Percy's a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get very good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Scabbers from Percy"

"I'm sure there are plenty of other things you could do," said Harry.

"Yeah? Like what? Everything's already been done by someone else. But the time I do it, it's not really special anymore" replied Ron.

"See, that is a very dangerous mindset to have. Don't think that just because something's already been done before, means you yourself can't extrapolate some form of merit out of it for yourself. Cause at the end of the day, the only one that truly benefits from the actions you undertake, is yourself. You say that everyone in your family expects you to do as well as the others, but that doesn't mean you have to do the exact thing as them. Branch out, explore other avenues. And for Pete's sake, do something that **you'll** enjoy." Harry leaned forward, looking Ron directly in the eyes, "Here's a question for you - What are you good at?"

"W-well...I..." Ron looked embarrassed as he returned his gaze to Harry, "I'm not really smart like Bill. And though I like Quidditch, I'm not really good at it like Char-"

"There you again," Harry cut Ron off before he could continue, "Your comparing yourself to them. Don't. They are masters of their fields, and no matter how much you try comparing yourself to them, the only thing that it would do is make you feel more incompetent. **Think** , for a moment, and ponder to yourself, what **you** are good at? What are you good at so much, that none of them can hold a candle to you?"

"Well..." Ron went quit for the moment, deep in thought, "I'm good at chess. At least I think I am" he finally said after much deliberation.

"There you go," Harry sat back, proud of himself, "It may seem small, but all good things start small, don't they?"

"I guess..." He didn't look too convinced, "I have a set of wizard's chess with me. Wanna play? I'm sure you're going to be better than me anyway, seeing as how you're so smart"

"I highly doubt that, Ron Weasley"

Wizard's Chess turned out to be regular chess, except the pieces were alive, so it made it feel a lot like directing troops on a battlefield. Ron's chess set was very old and battered, a testament to its longevity as it was passed down in his family - in this case, it was passed down from Ron's grandfather to him.

Turns out when Ron Weasley played Wizard's Chess, he was a completely different person. In comparison to the shy and anxiety-filled boy from before, he transformed when under pressure in Wizard's Chess, becoming serious, confident and an assertive player.

Now Harry wasn't exactly bad at chess, Barbatos teaching him a few strategies himself while training Harry. But the layout of Wizard's Chess involving the concept of troop morale and commander charisma completely threw most strategic value out the window. No longer could a game be determined by the player with a more adept mind for formations and tactics. Should a commander fail to sway his men; the pieces could very easily ignore orders, change the orders out of their own volition, input their own opinions, or even rebel and route from the battlefield.

Harry had trouble controlling his men, most of which distrusted him mainly for holding Vespa too closely to the board. Many of them complained that she was leering at them mischievously, fearing that she would try to eat them. They even refused to face Ron's pieces, instead, having their backs to them as they stared fearfully at the demon bunny perched on Harry's shoulder like an eagle.

That just made it all the easier for Ron who, having the full confidence and trust of his men, had his forces crash into the back Harry's forces with the force of an elephant.

It was complete slaughter for Harry's forces.

"See? You're not dumb Ron" said Harry matter-of-factly as Ron's pieces cleaned the board after his third loss, resetting themselves in their positions while half of them grumbled amongst themselves as they prepared for another eventual bloodbath from the other side, "You just lack confidence, the dedication, and the proper motivation to strive for things beyond what your brothers have already done. Just remember this. They are their own persons. You are your own person. What matters the most, is what matters to you, at the end of the day"

"Thanks, Ovid," said Ron, feeling a little better about himself.

While they played, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quite for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past as they directed their troops on the board.

Around half-past twelve, after Harry's seventh consecutive loss, there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Harry, having eaten a bit of breakfast already, stood to his feet, interesting in what the lady could be selling for lunch. Ron, still playing with his chess pieces, went pink in the ear, mumbling that he brought sandwiches.

He withdrew a rather squashed looking lump from his pockets, wrapped in plastic. Harry stared at it disdainfully, wondering to himself how Ron was going to eat that. Ron seemed to be equally disdainful, unwrapping the pack and sighing to himself, "She always forgets I hate corned beef" he muttered.

His eyes widened as a small stack of coins was placed on his chessboard. Looking up in surprise, Harry looked down back at him with sympathy.

"I know what it is like to not be able to have something you really want," said Harry sadly, remembering his time with the Dursley's and the various occasion they denied him of food, "Consider this your reward for beating me seven times in chess"

Ron stared at the stack of coins, then back at Harry with tearful eyes. For a moment, he debated with himself before he muttered a soft 'thank you'.

"Don't mention it" Ron swooped up the stack of coins and followed Harry out into the corridor. The two of them stared at the trolley, where a wide range of confectionaries laid out in the open for them to choose. So many different varieties and so many colorful boxes! Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life.

 _ **"Hey Harry, I want the jelly-beans,"**_ said Vespa into his head.

 _"Hmm...? Oh yeah, sure,"_ replied Harry as he watched Ron buy a bit of everything. Harry stepped forward after Ron was done and grabbed a box of Every-Flavour Beans for Vespa.

"Do you have anything without sugar in it?" asked Harry to the trolley-lady.

"Err..." It would seem she wasn't familiar with students asking her for something so specific, but she did eventually reach down and pulled a plain-looking caesar salad for him from underneath the trolley.

"Thank you" Harry paid for both his selections and returned into the compartment. Ron was already there, munching happily on his sweets, and packing his chess set up.

"That's it?" He stared incredulously at the plastic box in his hands.

"I'm trying to watch my weight" explained Harry, sitting down and opening his salad. He also threw the box of jelly-beans to Vespa, who opened it gleefully.

"Careful with those" warned Ron, "When they mean every flavor, they _mean_ every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate, peppermint, and marmalade, but then you can get spinach, liver, and tripe. My brother George reckons he got a bogey-flavored one once. So watch it if you on planning to feed it to your rabbit"

His words then turned out to be true as Vespa swallowed a grey-looking one, immediately spewing smokestacks from her mouth as she rolled around on the ground in pain.

 _ **"It's not funny! I fucking hate pepper!"**_

 _"Then you ought to be more careful"_ teased Harry, flicking her nose when she climbed back up to glare at him. Ron just watched them converse in amazement.

"Your rabbit can breathe fire? Wicked!"

Harry smiled. The three of them sat there, enjoying their lunch while conversing in small talk and enjoying the scenery. Ron even threw a Chocolate Frog over to him, which Harry caught.

"These aren't really frogs, are they?" asked Harry as he examined the pentagon-shaped box.

"No" replied Ron, biting the head off a Jelly-Slug, "But see what the card is, I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect - Famous Witches and Wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I still haven't got the ultra-rare Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long crooked nose and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name, _Albus Dumbledore._

 _ **"What a funny-looking man"**_ interjected Vespa from Harry's shoulder. Harry flipped the card over, and read the information presented on the back.

 _ALBUS DUMBLEDORE,_

 _current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Arguably one of the most controversial wizards of the century, Professor Dumbledore is infamous for his role in the suicide of the Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. While his other achievements must not be detracted from the records of history; his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his works in the fields of alchemy with his friend Nicholas Flamel, the death of the Boy-Who-Lived has forever remained a stain on Professor Dumbledore as one of his greatest failures._

"Who's this Harry Potter fella the card talks about, and why is he called the Boy-Who-Lived?" asked Harry to Ron, curious as to why his name was printed on the back of the card.

"You don't know?" Ron looked at him amazed.

"I'm a muggle-born" lied Harry, having connected the dots of what the term meant over the weeks following his visit to Diagon Alley.

"Oh. In that case..." Ron cleared his throat, "Harry Potter is perhaps one of the most famous people of our time. Every kid in the wizarding world knows his name. His rise, and his fall"

"How so?"

"Well..." Ron looked hesitant, "My mother always told us stories. Of a time before I was born. Dark times they were. There was this wizard that went...bad. As bad as you could get. Worse. Worse than worse. Anyway, he went around, seizing power, killing anyone that tried to oppose him, and gather an army of like-minded followers. Ministry was useless cause he'd infiltrated the highest positions with his followers. Did not know who to trust. No one wanted to get friendly with anyone else, lest they are the enemy. Lots of terrible things happened. Lots of deaths, lots of unexplained disappearances." Ron gulped.

"What was his name?" asked Harry, growing interested in the topic.

"I...I..." Ron hesitated, before leaning forward and whispered " _Voldermort"_

Ron visibly shuddered, looking a little pale white.

"Don't make me say that again. Anyway, he was taking over" continued Ron, "It didn't look like anyone could stop him. Yet, for some reason, he came to the Potter residence as the war was coming to an end. As he was winning. Now the Potters were some of the greatest resisters of You-Know-Who. Maybe that's why he targeted them, wanted to clean the house before his victory. But that night was the night, ironically enough, he fell"

"What happened?" asked Harry keenly, wanting to hear what happened next.

"He killed them. Mr. and Mrs. Potter. But when he turned his wand to Harry, who was just a baby mind you, something happened. He couldn't kill Harry Potter. This...baby, when he had so easily killed some of the most accomplished witches and wizards of our century. The McKinnons, the Bones, even my uncles Gideon and Fabian Prewett - all fell to him, and yet this little baby was able to defeat him. That's why we called him the Boy-Who-Lived. That's why he's so famous."

 _ **"Would you look at that...you're famous!"**_

"What happened to You-Know-Who afterward?" pressed Harry.

"Who knows? Dead? Alive but broken? I'd rather think he was dead" said Ron, "His followers broke up after that. Ministry was able to retake control and we've been at peace since. Until..." He trailed off, looking positively saddened.

"Harry Potter died?" said Harry for him, fully aware of what happened next.

"Yeah" confirmed Ron, "Suicide. He was driven to it by his abusive muggle relatives. Say, you live with muggles, are they really as evil as the papers say? As cruel as to drive an innocent eight-year-old boy to death?" He seemed curious when he said that, though with a hint of fear.

"No. Not at all" defended Harry, thinking of Hestia and every creature in Safe Haven that couldn't use magic, "Well, some are capable of it, but the majority of them aren't. Seems to me this Harry Potter boy just got the short end of the stick"

"I guess" Ron looked skeptical but didn't ask any more from there. "Anyhow, that there is the tragedy of Harry Potter since you asked."

Ron went silent, going back to munching on his sweets. Harry was silent, quietly stroking Vespa as the information he gained about himself swarm in his head. So, he was famous. That explains why Hagrid was so reactive when he saw Harry on the streets of London. That also explains the cryptic words that Ollivander said to them when they first entered his wand shop.

This was difficult. How was he supposed to reveal his sudden existence if he was already this infamous?

Before he could contemplate a plan, there was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had seen on the platform came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "But have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry as he continued to give Vespa a back scratch while she dozed under the sun, "Chin up, lad,"

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron, "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quickly as I can. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk"

The rat was snoozing under the sun like Vespa.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust, "George gave me a spell that can him yellow. Wanna see?"

"Sure"

Ron rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white glinted at the end.

"Unicorn hairs' poking out again. Anyway-"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him, we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then"

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback

"Er-alright then."

He cleared his throat.

 _"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

 _Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

He waved his wand, but all it did was shock the grey rat, waking him up from his slumber with a squeak.

"Are you sure that's a **real** spell?" said the girl, "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger by the way, who are you?"

She said of this very fast.

Harry looked over to Ron, who's stunned face showed he too, like Harry, hasn't learned every one of their books off by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," muttered Ron.

"Ovid Picus" lied Harry.

"Pleasure" Hermione reached forward and shook their hands, rather forcibly. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I am in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad...Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And as quickly and unexpected as she came, she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

 _ **"Well...she was annoying"**_

 _"Hush you!"_

 ** _"What? Are you defending her?"_**

Vespa wasn't the only one who seemed to have a disdain for the girl, as Ron threw his wand into his trunk irritably.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron, laying back and biting the head off of a Chocolate Frog.

'What are Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?" asked Harry, having caught onto that tidbit of information from the girl's dialogue.

"They're Houses. Hogwarts Houses" replied Ron, swallowing the frog.

"What about Hufflepuff and Slytherin? Are they Houses too?" asked Harry, remembering what the boy back in _Madam Malkin's_ said about being in a House.

"Yeah, them too. Hufflepuff is considered the duffers, but I'll take Hufflepuff over Slytherin any day,"

"What houses are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mum and Dad were in it too. In fact, pretty much all of the family's been in it. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not"

"There you go again. Do you want to be in Gryffindor because **you** want too, or because the rest of your family are in it too?" chided Harry, disappointed in the boy's quick return to depression over his image.

"Well...I..." He gave it some thought, "I suppose Ravenclaw _wouldn't_ be too bad. Now that I think about it."

"If you are going to think about it, then think about it quickly," said Harry, staring out of the window, "Looks like we're nearly here."

It was getting dark now. He barely saw the mountains and forests anymore, just their general outlines as they were contrasted against the deep purple sky. Off in the distance, he could see faint flickering lights. The train also seemed to be slowing down.

 _ **"Ooooh! This is so exciting!"**_ exclaimed Vespa with excitement from his shoulder. While she was excited at the prospect, Harry found himself lost in thought.

The last few hours have given him an enormous amount of information to process with. Information about the wizarding world, about the school, and most importantly, himself. Finding out that he was a high profile character in the wizarding world really did pull a wrench in his plans to stay innocuous and anonymous. The addition of Vespa into his retinue, and the stress that she brought with her, certainly did not help.

But. Like Damian often says.

In times of trouble.

Just go with the flow.


	12. Chapter 12

**I do not own any of the characters from the Zoophobia and Harry Potter canon. They are the rightful property of Vivienne Madrano and J.K Rowling respectively.**

 **Chapter 12: The Sorting Ceremony**

Harry and Ron took their uniforms out from their trunks and quickly placed them on after stripping off their casual clothes. The uniform, despite being named as robes in the Hogwarts letters, actually consisted of a plain white button-up shirt, a dull grey tie, a grey V-neck sweater, and long grey trousers. Harry and Ron fastened their black cloaks over their uniforms, with Ron's being clearly a hand-me-down as they were quite short for him, the edge reaching up to around his knees.

 _ **"You look good"**_ whistled Vespa, perched on his shoulder.

 _"Thanks, Vespa"_ Harry tugged the collar of his cloak up a little more as they left the compartment and followed the sea of students heading for the exits. A voice had rung out in the train prior, telling them to leave their luggage on the train carriages as it would be taken to the school separately.

The train finally rolled to a stop, hissing out billows of smoke as its brakes forced it into place. People pushed their way towards the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry stepped out into the cold weather, taking a deep breath in to enjoy the chilly air, before being forced forwards by the tide of students behind him.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" Off in the distance, Harry saw a single lantern bobbing over the heads of the students, being held by a familiar person with a familiar accent standing beside a sign that read: _Hogsmeade Station._

Harry and Ron broke away from the main stream of students, joining a much smaller group of students who were most like First-years like Harry. Many of them stood there, shivering in the cold as Hagrid waited for the last few stragglers to arrive.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer heads now! Firs'-years follow me!" Hagrid's big hairy head beamed at the group of first years before waving at them to follow him. Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them, that Harry thought there must be thick trees surrounding them. There weren't many conversations between the first-years, with most students opting to remain silent. Neville. the boy who kept losing his toad sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called out over his shoulder, "Just around this here bend"

There was a loud "Oooooh!" from the crowd of first-year students.

The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its window sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast, ancient castle with many turrets and towers. Had it not been for the light from the moon and the little flickers of lamplight within the castle, Harry wouldn't have noticed it against the backdrop of the black night.

 _ **"Daammn...What a castle!"**_ exclaimed Vespa.

 _"It's bigger than our Lord's palace, isn't it?"_ replied Harry. He and Ron followed Hagrid as the half-giant gestured them to keep moving.

"No more'n than four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Vespa, and Ron clambered into one of the boats, followed by the only other students they knew; Hermione and Neville.

"Oh. Hello again" said Hermione politely. Harry and Ron nodded their heads in acknowledgment silently.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who occupied a boat to himself, "Right then - FORWARD!"

And then the fleet of little boats moved off at once by themselves, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up in astonishment at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy, which hid a wide stone opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reached a kind of underground harbor dimly lit by torches on the wall.

"Oy, you there! Is this yeh here toad?" asked Hagrid, checking the boats as they all climbed out of them, onto the rocky ground.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, taking the brown toad from Hagrid's massive hands. Once Neville had been reunited with his toad, they continued their journey, clambering up a passage in the rock after Hagrid's lantern. Eventually, the passage ended, spewing them out onto the smooth, damp grass right in front of the massive oak front doors.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yeh toad? Alright then..."

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle doors.

The massive doors swung open at once and a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes emerged out from it. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone he wanted to cross.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid respectfully, gesturing to the crowd of first-years watching in silence.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Hagrid nodded and lumbered off. McGonagall held the doors open for them as they jostled and pushed each other into the Entrance Hall. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted a whole house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling too high to make out, and magnificent marble staircases facing in front of them leading up to the upper floor.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor.

 _ **"Do you hear that?"**_ Vespa rubbed her overly large ears, _**"Or is it just me?"**_

She wasn't wrong, Harry could hear it too. The drone of hundreds of voices like buzzing insects - mostly likely the rest of the school's population - could be heard from a doorway on the right. Instead of walking through the doorways as he expected them too, McGonagall led them off into a smaller, empty chamber off to the left of the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall once they all crowded in the room, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room"

"There are four houses; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin" explained the witch wisely, "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours"

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, or on Ron, whose trousers were hitched a little too lowly. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place soon in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourself up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber and the first-years broke out into whispers.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron. His wasn't the only question as many other first years were also discussing it to one another.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

A test? Harry raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he wondered about the nature of a test that would require him to do it in front of the school. Was it a practical exam? One that needed him to perform a feat of magic in front of the school to prove his magical potency? If so, then he didn't worry too much. He knew **enough** magic from his training. The same couldn't be said for his peers, who all looked terrified at the door which McGonagall will inevitably walk back through. Hermione Granger was even muttering under her breath very quickly about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she needed.

Before he could think about it anymore, there was loud sound from behind him, followed by an impact to his back. Harry stumbled, grabbing onto Vespa before she could fall from his shoulder.

"Oi! Watch it!" said a cold voice behind him.

"You watch it, shithead" muttered Harry. He felt and saw a hand grab him on the shoulder, tightly.

"What was that?"

Harry was whisked from his bent-over position and forced to turn around. As he did so, he was greeted by a sight he knew was going to happen eventually, just not so soon.

"Hah...oh great, it's Mallory..." said Harry flatly.

"It's Malfoy!"

"Whatever" Harry smiled as he watched Malfoy swell with anger. The two boys on Malfoy's side cracked their knuckles threateningly. Both of them were massively built, broad-shouldered and stood on either side of the pale-faced boy like bodyguards. They were arguably the ones more dangerous in this situation, something Malfoy seemed to realize as well as he stared back at Harry with a composed face.

Ron made the mistake of sniggering at Malfoy's name in that precise moment, something that caused the boy to round up on the youngest Weasley instead.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" asked the boy dangerously, "No need to ask who you are. Red-hair, freckles and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley" he spat that last part out as if it was a particularly nasty piece of filth in his mouth.

"Yeah, and so what if I am?" Ron stepped forward towards Malfoy, though he stopped in his tracks when Harry placed his arm out in front.

"Best not to, Ron," said Harry calmly to the larger boy, watching Malfoy's guards step forward to protect their boss. He could feel the eyes of the other first-years around them watching their little argument with a mixture of fear, amazement, and curiosity. "No benefit stooping down to his level"

"Oh that is rich, coming from the Mudblood" snarled Malfoy. He must've said something extremely offensive, cause a good portion of the students watching them raised their voices in protest. The round-faced boy with the toad squeaked in astonishment, some of the girls in the back gasped with shock. Yet there were a few that seemed to agree with Malfoy; in particular, a dark-skinned boy leaning against the walls coolly, a massive girl the size of one of the boys next to Malfoy, as well as a blonde girl with blue eyes standing beside her beanie-wearing brunette friend.

 _ **"Just give the word and I'll sic'em"**_ Vespa positioned herself on his shoulder, ready to launch herself at Malfoy.

"Stop it you two, you're going to get us into trouble!" Hermione stepped in, once she saw the dark-looking smile Harry returned in Malfoy's direction.

"Oh, shut up," Malfroy brushed her off lazily.

"Yes, shut up Granger. This is none of your business" Hermione's face when purple as she was shot down by not only Malfoy but Harry as well. Clearly she, and the rest of the first-years didn't expect that, as several of them gave him odd looks.

"I...I..." Whatever Hermione was gasping out to say next was lost, as at that precise moment, Professor McGonagall returned.

"Move along now, The Sorting Ceremony is about to start. Form a line and follow me" called out McGonagall. The various students rushed behind one another, before following Professor McGonagall out of the chamber. Shooting Malfoy one last glare as the pale-faced boy deliberately stepped on his toes on the way out, Harry stood behind a sandy-haired boy, with Ron behind him, as they left the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of massive double doors into the Great Chamber.

The sight of the place was spectacular. Thousands upon thousands of candles floated mid-air, illuminating the entire hall in a warm yellow light. Four long tables, of where the rest of the student body was sitting, were laid with golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.

"It's not real, of course, just bewitched to look like night sky outside, I read about in _Hogwarts: A History"_ came the whisper of Hermione Granger from behind Harry.

 _ **"I wonder if that broad realizes none of us gives a flying shit what or where she read that from?!"**_ grumbled Vespa on Harry's shoulder.

 _"Now Vespa, be nice"_ Harry smiled and reached up to stroke her furry head, fully aware of the demon's immense dislike for the bushy-haired girl. Still, the ceiling was rather nice to look at. It was a velvety black, with a pale from the distant moon contrasting against the flickering yellow specks of the stars. It truly did make him feel as if he was on the outside and staring out at the night sky.

McGonagall led the procession of first-years through the middle of the Hall, pass groups of students who stared at the group like pale lanterns in the flickering light. Harry noticed that he was gaining attention from quite a significant number of students, mostly in part due to Vespa hanging from his shoulder. A few girls sighed, whispering to one another how cute Vespa looked and how jealous they were of him to have such an adorable pet.

The procession came to stop near the base of the stairs leading up to the teacher's table. All of them watched with curiosity as McGonagall stepped up and silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool, she placed a pointed wizard's hat, one the was extremely dirty, patched and frayed around the edges. It was the kind of hat that Hilda would have definitely thrown out of the Royal Palace.

Maybe they had to pull a rabbit out from the hat? Harry considered finding a way to slip Vespa into the hat as he noticed that everyone in the Hall was now staring at the hat. He too stared at the hat, watching with interest as the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and from it, came a catchy song sung in a scratchy voice.

 _'Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you can see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The whole Hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry, "I'm gonna kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling troll."

Harry gave him a weak smile. So they just had to try on the hat? Sounds easy enough. Problem was, if Harry tried on the Sorting Hat, then it would surely know who he was and what he was. His stomach dropped as he considered the situation. Would it scream out to the whole school that he was a demon? Would McGonagall and the other professors raise their wands and attack him?

He sighed, seeing no way out of this situation.

 _"So whatcha think?"_ asked Harry to Vespa, trying to get his worries out of his head.

 _ **"I'd say Ravenclaw is more up your alley"**_ replied Vespa, _**"You're the smartest one I know. Probably smarter than most of these dunderheads around you, especially that red-haired prat. He belongs in the reject house"**_

 _"Vespa!"_ scolded Harry, _"Find, let's have a bet. A Galleon that I won't end up in Ravenclaw and that Ron won't be in Hufflepuff"_

 ** _"Make them head pats and I'll agree"_**

 _"Fine. But if you lose, then I want to-"_ Harry smiled mischievously as he whispered into her ear, "Tickle your belly"

Vespa went red, as Harry knew her weak spot was the floof on her belly.

 _ **"A-alright"**_

 _"Perfect"_ Harry turned his attention back to McGonagall, who was now speaking in front of the group with a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line, put on the hall, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah stumbled off of the stool and went to sit with them.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

This time the table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent", the massive girl from before that agreed with Malfoy then became a Slytherin. As Harry watched the table politely clap and make room for her to sit down, Harry noticed that a lot of them were more stone-faced compare to the rest of the school which was more jubilant to the occasion.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, as Harry noticed, the hat would just shout out the house the moment it touched the first-year's head, just like it did for "Greengrass, Daphne" who went to Slytherin. Other times, it would take a considerable amount of time to decide, as it did with Greengrass's brunette friend "Davis, Tracey" at the beginning, before it placed her in Slytherin.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione Granger almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he tripped on someone else's robes and fell on his way ton the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When in finally placed him "GRYFFINDOR", Neville ran off still wearing it and had to jog back red-faced and amid gales of giggles to give it to "MacDougal, Morag" who was placed in "RAVENCLAW!"

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went off to join his friends/bodyguards, whom Harry learned were named "Crabbe, Vincent" and "Goyle, Gregory", looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon, Lilith"..."SLYTHERIN!"..."Nott, Theodore"..."SLYTHERIN!"..."Parkinson, Pansy"..."SLYTHERIN!"...two twin girls named "Patil, Parvati" and "Patil, Padma" who were sorted into "GRYFFINDOR!" and "RAVENCLAW!" respectively..."Perks, Sally-Anne"..."SLYTHERIN!"...and then, at last-

McGonagall looked shocked as she read the next name on her roll of parchment. She took her spectacles off, wiped them clean with a cloth in her pockets, and then placed them back on. Even then, her eyes were still wide in shock.

"P-potter, Harry!"

" _Potter,_ did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

"No way that true. Must be a prank. He's been _dead_ for the last three years!"

Whispers and murmurs broke out amongst the students as they directed their attention to the group of first-years still to be sorted.

"Harry Potter? Here?" Harry heard Ron whisper next to him.

 _"Well, guess there's no escaping it"_

Harry patted Ron on the shoulder, "Sorry for lying to you. Guess I can't hide my identity anymore" Harry was vaguely sure that nearly everyone in the Hall heard him say that out loud.

"What? Ovid?" Harry never saw what kind of face Ron had, as he brushed past him and the remaining students. He walked up the steps, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it with a knife. Eventually, he found himself in front of McGonagall, who was looking at him with sceptical eyes.

"You are Harry Potter?" She looked him up and down, mainly focusing on his bi-colored hair, his unique hairstyle, and the scar on his forehead which peeked out from underneath his fringe.

"Yes ma'am" he replied politely. She continued to look at him. In fact, at this point, everyone was looking at him intensely.

"Well..." McGonagall bit her lips and waved a hand towards the chair, "Go on then"

Harry nodded, walking forward to pick up the hat and placed it on his head. As he removed Vespa from his shoulder and the edges of the hat descended over his eyes, he saw the Hall full of people craning forward to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

 _"Hmm...well, well, well. Who would've thought that I would one day sort the famous Harry Potter"_ said a small voice into his ear, _"I don't know whether to feel honored or terrified. Considering...you're not exactly human, now are you?"_

Harry felt his blood chill, _"You know? How?"_

 _"The brain is an amazing construct, regardless if it's a human or demon one. I have both the privilege and curse to look into it. Whereas one sees a lump of wrinkly flesh, I see an amazing organism that creates sentient. It doesn't matter to me how well you can hide your true self, for one little peak in your brain is all I need to see you laid bare"_

 _"Must be boring then, having to be used once a year just to dig into the heads of children"_

 _"Like you wouldn't believe it"_ Harry heard the voice sigh, _"There's nothing to do but sit in the old cobblepot's office and think up new songs every year. Worst off, no one appreciates me for the things I do! Honestly, their future is in my non-existent hands!"_

 _"Shame"_ And idea clicked in Harry's head, _"Would you like me to come up sometimes for a spot of tea? I'm pretty sure you would like the company"_

 _"Thank you, my dear boy, but how can I drink tea when I have no stomach to enjoy it?"_ Harry felt the hat shake atop his head, _"Oh well, matters not. You are such a polite boy. Now where to sort you...Interesting. Plenty of courage, though it borders on the line of suicidal. Loyal to your master. Not a bad mind either. But wait, there is something here. Yes. Something that you yourself cannot see but only I can see"_

 _"What is it?"_

 _"Not yet. Yes, not yet. You do not need to know this yet. But know this boy. You will go far. Very far. You will do what no creature in this world has ever done before. The heights of your ambitions. Yes, **ambitions** , shall be the stuff of legends. For now though, better be - SLYTHERIN!"_

Harry heard the hat shout out the last word.

His sight came back to him as he calmly removed the hat from his head.

The first thing he noticed, was how silent it was. Deathly silent. There was no cheers or applause. No whooping or even the sound of breathing.

All Harry saw, were the faces that looked at him from all around.

Some gave him suspicious glances, others icy and calculative gazes. But a majority, he saw, were confused and might he add, terrified looks.

Seeing an opportunity to break the ice, Harry stood up as Vespa clambered her way back up onto his shoulder. Placing his right leg in front, his left hand behind, and his right hand across his chest, where his heart was. Harry bent over and gave a small and short bow.

One, after all, must be polite, when they are the centre of attention.

 **Author Notes: I am proud to say that I'm finally releasing my first M rated story, titled _Rehabilitation._ It shall focus on Harry's life post-Hogwarts and shall also be another Harry Potter/Zoophobia crossover story. Next chapter shall focus on the feast, the reactions and the consequences of his sorting into Slytherin.**


	13. Chapter 13

**I do not own any of the characters from the Zoophobia and Harry Potter canon. They are the rightful property of Vivienne Madrano and J.K Rowling respectively.**

 **Chapter 13: Food for Thought.**

Draco Malfoy always knew he was special.

From the moment he was born, to where he sat now on the Slytherin table at Hogwarts, Draco knew that he was destined for greatness. It was in his blood. In the blood of all members of the prestigious Malfoy family.

His ancestor, Armand Malfoy, served King William I and was rewarded with great wealth, as well as the land to which the ancient home of Malfoy Manor stands to this very day.

Nicolas Malfoy purged filthy Muggle squatters out of the lands that rightfully belonged to wizardkind.

Brutus Malfoy was a pioneer and advocate in protecting witches and wizards from the dangers of Muggles during a time of rapid discrimination and persecution against the wizarding race.

His grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, protected the wizarding world by ousting a Mudblood prime minister that would have threatened their magical way of life.

His own father fought for the Dark Lord faithfully, and would too have succeeded and brought forth a Golden Age for the wizarding world, had it not been for the Boy-Who-Lived.

Ah yes, the Boy-Who-Lived. While many former Death Eaters were bitter at the half-blood child for defeating the Dark Lord - many still, wondered if his victory over the Dark Lord was a sign that an even greater Dark Wizard was coming.

But alas, the boy died. Of his own volition.

Some Death Eaters, especially his aunt and uncles in Azkaban, may rejoice and celebrate, but the more cunning and pragmatic such as his father used the boy as the perfect example to showcase to the entire wizarding world, especially that hippie Dumbledore, that Muggles were completely unhinged savages with a tenacity for barbaric acts. After all, how could something _human_ possibly drive a small child to suicide?

And so their ranks swelled. While a majority of them weren't exactly fully on board with the issue of Dark Magic use, it matters not, for they were all united in their stance against muggles and the other _filth_ that could possibly be infiltrating wizarding society to harm it from the inside.

Change came. Not because of the Dark Lord, but because of the Boy-Who-Lived. He brought wizarding society out of the scum that it was falling into and brought in back on the correct path.

But not everywhere.

For while Mudbloods were denied and rightfully removed from high positions of work and some public services, particularly those in Knockturn Alley, Hogwarts still remained a bastion of the old way of thinking. Mostly in part due to the works of Dumbledore.

Dumbledore may have lost pretty much every semblance of a reputation in the Wizarding World, but he still had a firm grip on Hogwarts. Hogwarts remained opened to the Mudbloods and Blood traitors, promoting his pathetic ideology that wizards and witches should breed with Muggles and Mudbloods. Most laughable of them all was the notion that Harry Potter was still alive, based on some writings that could have easily been hoodwinked into the Book of Admittance and Quill of Acceptance.

Malfoy came to Hogwarts, fully confident that this year was going to be the year the Dumbledore was finally ousted. Just watch, Harry Potter will not show up and Dumbledore will finally be disgraced as his father said he would, allowing a new headmaster to take over and start fixing the place up as it should be.

He just didn't expect to be completely surprised.

...

Perhaps, 'surprised' was the wrong word. Mortified sounds better.

Yeah, mortified will do.

Just like everyone else in the Great Hall, Malfoy stared with his mouth agape as the boy who stepped up, the _Mudblood_ boy who stepped up claiming to be Harry Potter, was sorted in Slytherin. The atmosphere was chilly, maybe even bordering on volatile. Stares became dagger-like looks as the professors, Dumbledore and even the Prefects and Head boys and girls of each Houses glared at the acclaimed Harry Potter standing on the elevated platform with a great deal of suspicion and disbelief. Other students, primarily the seniors from years five to seven, were still on edge but looked at Harry Potter with a great deal of vested interest. Fear and paranoia, however, plagued the younger students.

Just looking into Potter's eyes, Malfoy could see that he was fully aware of the tension in the room. But there was also the spark that showed he most likely didn't care, as he gave a mocking bow in front of the whole school. He stepped off the platform then, walking calmly to the Slytherin table with his hands behind his back while his stupid white rabbit rode on his shoulder. In the silence of the Great Hall, the clacking on his boots reverberated across the whole Hall, all for them to hear.

"Hello again, Mallory" Malfoy flinched, as Potter sat down next to him. Glancing around for Crabbe and Goyle, he felt his heart sunk as he realized that Goyle was sitting on his left while Crabbe sat opposite him, leaving the right space free for Potter to plop down next to him. The other Slytherins had moved back, once they realized that Potter was walking to them.

 _Traitors!_

"Fancy meeting you here" He felt the shock travel down his spine, reactively averting his gaze from Potter, "What's wrong? Cat's got your tongue? I did say this is going to be the beginning of a _very_ interesting friendship"

Malfoy remained silent, the gears clicking in his head as he tried to rationalize the situation he found himself in. Here he was, sitting next to someone that was supposed to be dead for the last three years! What the hell was he supposed to do? Nothing came to his mind, so he decided to remain silent until the high from his shock died down and he could formulate a plan.

Potter clicked his tongue and huffed, "How rude. The decent thing to do would be to respond when someone is speaking to you. Did your mother never teach you some manners? Oh well, you can't find manners in all of them."

Malfoy's fists clenched as he fought back the urge to refute something snarky Potter. No. Not yet. He will not allow himself to be captured in this imposter's net. He will bide his time and retaliate then.

"*cough* *cough* W-Well then!" McGonagall cleared her throat and tried to direct attention back to the front, which some of the students did, but not all, "Onwards with the Sorting. Rivers, Oliver?!"

Malfoy barely listened as the boy wearing circular glasses was sorted into "RAVENCLAW!". In fact, he barely listened at all as the last few names came rushing by.

"Roper, Sophie!"..."HUFFLEPUFF!"..."Runcorn, Tobias!"..."GRYFFINDOR!"..."Smith, Sally!"..."HUFFLEPUFF!"...Some Mudblood boy named "Thomas, Dean!" also went to "GRYFFINDOR!"..."Turpin, Lisa!"..."RAVENCLAW!"...And then-

"Weasley, Ronald!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Malfoy was stunned as the Hall clapped politely. He certainly didn't expect that. The blood traitor family _Weasley_ was notorious for ending up in the Gryffindorks just as much as his family was known for going into Slytherin. If he thought he was surprised than his brothers certainly were more.

"Wahoo! Would you look at that! Little ickle Ronnie is the first in the family to go to the house of ravens!" yelled out one of the twins, clapping enthusiastically.

"Don't you go giving us Weasley's a bad name now, ya hear?!" said the other twin, pushing his first down to get a chance to speak. Malfoy could see the eldest brother, a notorious suckler for the school rules, scold the two twins while the rest of the Hall chuckled at their antics. Weasley just kept his head down the whole time, looking absolutely green-faced as he sat down to Rivers.

Malfoy sneered. _Weasley's._

As the last first-year, "Zabini, Blaise!" was sorted into "SLYTHERIN!" and sat down next to Potter, McGonagall rolled up the parchment and took the stool as well as the Sorting hat away. The Headmaster, Dumbledore, stood up and beamed at the students with his arms open wide. Malfoy and most of the Slytherin table sniggled as they noticed his large beer belly, disheveled robes, and yellow-stained beard.

Whether Dumbeldore had anything to respond to the giggles and snide remarks from the Slytherins and the first-years, he didn't show it, instead remaining as amicable as ever. If anything, he seemed slightly amused.

"Welcome!" he said joyously, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts for our newest arrivals! A world of magical education and intrigue awaits you. And for out senior student body, welcome back!"

Malfoy watched Potter, curious as to how the imposter would act. To his surprise, Potter remained completely impartial to Dumbledore's words, staring at the Headmaster silently despite the stares coming his way from down the Slytherin table and beyond.

"That being said, I would like to say a quick few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" Dumbledore gave a small bow as the Hall erupted into cheers and claps. Malfoy didn't join in with the rest of his fellow Slytherins, who clapped out of the most minuscule of respect - instead, more focused on the imposter sitting next to him.

Potter also didn't seem to have much of a reaction to the Headmaster's words, instead, focusing on his rabbit which he placed down on the table.

Malfoy frowned. Was it a trick of the light? He could swear he saw the rabbit wink at Potter.

He didn't exactly eat well, despite the plethora of food that appeared out on the table for him. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, salad, and, for the after the meal digestive soother, mint humbugs. Despite picking a steak, one of his most favorite foods, he didn't eat it much as most of his time was spent watching Potter. In fact, most of his house and some from the surrounding houses just stared at Potter.

Potter, despite piling his plate high with meat, ate very little of it, instead just munching on a bland salad and one lamb chop. The rest went to his rabbit.

Now Malfoy wasn't sure if it was a rabbit or not. What kind of rabbit eats meat with a kind of ferocity and gusto akin to a tornado? The creature would hold the slab of meat in place with its feet and then proceed to bite and tear into it, ripping it apart in a shower of blood and sauce As the creature devoured the meat, Malfoy saw that it possessed rows of razor-sharp teeth lined up like a shark's.

"Cool..." mumbled a voice opposite him. Malfoy, and a good portion of the students, turned to see Crabbe staring at the rabbit with awe and envy, "Wish I had a pet like that..."

"But all you have is a toad" interjected Goyle. He looked at Crabbe as if he was thinking intensely, "Probably got some toad's blood in you as well"

"Hey! Screw you!"

"Excuse me?" The table fell silent as Potter spoke up. He raised his head from his food and watched all of them questioningly. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Umm..." Malfoy gulped and spoke up, seeing as the rest of his housemates ducked their heads and redirected their attention back onto their food. He even saw a few of them create mock conversations on the spot - as if they've been engaged in conversations with one another long before, "Nothing. Crabbe here was just complimenting on your pet" said Malfoy as politely as he could. He had to be careful here. His interactions with Potter beforehand wasn't exactly the most beneficial to his current predicament.

"Who, Vespa?" Vespa must be the name of his rabbit as it raised its head like a meerkat to look at them, "She's one of a kind, isn't she? There are not many places in the world you can get a carnivorous rabbit as a pet"

Potter reached out and began stroking his rabbit, slowly and affectionately as his fingers played around with her fur and the joints on her spine. Malfoy just watched him strangely, "I've only had her for a year now, so she's still relatively young" Vespa pressed her head into Potter's palm, eager for more stroking. Potter complied, rubbing the animal until it was on its back, "But she's still a tough little _**bitch**_ , aren't you girl?!"

Potter's fingers slinked in and began scratching the floof on the rabbit's chest, ferociously. The rabbit legs buckled and flailed in the air as it squeaked and squealed from Potter's rather rough handling of it. The surrounding Slytherins watched him as if he'd gone mad.

A few girls gasped as there was a large *SHULK*. Potter lifted his hand up slowly, Vespa attached to the other end and hanging from his hand as she had sunk her teeth directly into his fingers.

"Oh yes, and that happens sometimes" sighed Potter. He reached up and tickled the rabbit on the neck, "C'mon darling, let go now"

The rabbit obeyed, spitting out his fingers and landing on the table. The Slytherins look in horror at Potter's mangled fingers dripped blood. One of them was even hanging from a single tendon of muscle.

"Sweet Merlin! Are you okay?!" One of the fifth-year girls from down the table shrieked out in panic, drawing in the attention of the other houses.

"It's no big deal..."

"No big deal?! Your fingers are hanging from a thread of muscle! You need a Healer and fast!" Her shrieks were now bringing in the attention of the professors. Malfoy watched with increasing panic as he saw Professor Snape, a long-time friend of his father's rise, from his seat.

"No, seriously, it's no big deal" Potter placed his mutilated fingers into a napkin and rubbed the blood from them. When he pulled them back out again, to their amazement, the wound had been completely sealed off. It was as if no damages to fingers had never happened! "There. See? All fixed now"

Before Malfoy could point out that the blood from the napkin had vanished to the rest of his house-mates watching with amazement and to some degrees, fear, there was a large swooshing sound, accompanied a sudden drop in the temperature. Glancing around, he noticed that from the walls, a number of figures emerged from it. Pearly white and translucent, the four of them floated towards their specific tables.

"It's the Bloody Baron!" called out one of the seniors sitting further down the table. Malfoy watched with reverence as the gaunt, chain-shackled ghost floated over to them sombrely. Malfoy heard a lot about the Bloody Baron, mainly from his father.

"Parkinson" acknowledged the ghost, nodding to a black-haired girl with a Bob cut, "Greengrass, Davis, Bulstrode, Perks, Moon, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, Malfoy, Zabini, and Potter..." The ghost stared at Potter intensely, to which Malfoy noticed Potter stare back at him with just as much intensity. The Baron floated up and gave the first-years a deep bow, "I humbly welcome each and every one of you to our most Sacred House. I do so hope that your... _increased..._ cohort numbers will bring much achievements to our vaulted House. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and greet our returning senior students"

Another deep bow and the ghost drifted off.

"How'd he get those chains?" asked Potter. The rest of the first-years looked with bewilderment as Potter and his pet continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

"How can you continue to eat after seeing him?" asked Davis stiffly. Her friend Greengrass was looking, funnily enough, green herself. Nott seemed to be shaking and Zabini was clutching his fork a little harder than needed.

"Was I meant to feel something?" Potter raised an eyebrow, "Who knows? But anyway, so how'd he get those chains?"

"Oh, I heard that-" began Goyle, almost too eagerly.

"In case you were wondering, we are eating Goyle" Goyle pouted as Zabini chided him harshly. Malfoy and a few of the others laughed at his predicament. It was exactly through the Bloody Baron's appearance and Zabini's scolding, that the ice was broken amongst the first years. Soon, Malfoy and the other first years took turns to introduce themselves and most importantly, their family's accomplishments.

For the girls, first up was Pansy Parkinson, from a pure-blood family that specialized in breeding and selling house-elves. Next was Daphne Greengrass, again, another pure-blood witch whose family owned a line of successful apothecaries. The same couldn't be said for her childhood friend, Tracey Davis, a half-blood and a rather standard one at best. Next to her was Millicent Bulstrode, another pure-blood whose only distinguishable traits were that she was as large and bulky as Crabbe and Goyle.

The two remaining female Slytherin first-years were what you could call the black sheep of the Slytherins. First up was Lilith Moon, a tall half-blood witch with wispy straw-colored hair and large blue eyes. She largely stayed out of the main group's conversations, instead, staring off into the distance and only speaking to confirm that her family were known telescope makers before falling silent once more. The bespectacled girl Sally-Anne Perks got it worse than Moon, not even being acknowledged by the other girls until Potter spoke up for her. It was then that she confirmed to everyone what Malfoy already knew long ago.

She was a Mudblood.

From the boy's side, there was Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, but everyone went to calling them Crabbe and Goyle for simplicity's sake. Not that they actually cared, instead, shrugging their shoulders while they feasted on the dessert that arrived after the main course had been cleared off from the table. Then there was Theodore Nott, a small weedy looking boy who didn't speak much. Malfoy knew better than to pass over on Nott, as he remembered seeing Nott act much more...impulsive when he visited the Nott residence with his family for one Christmas. Let's just say Nott had a rather...interesting display of animals.

Zabini was next, a handsome and cool-looking boy who was son to one of the most famous - or infamous based on how you looked at it - witches of all time. Married and widowed seven times, each of her husbands died mysterious deaths and left Mrs. Zabini with an enormous amount of money, something that refined Blaise's high-class pedigree.

"My family is the purest of the pure. I'm even a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself" boasted Malfoy. He smiled as he saw his fellow first-years look at him with awe, though it faded when he looked at Potter. Potter looked absolutely bored with their conversations. "Bored, Potter?"

"As a matter of speaking, yes" replied Potter, "Hearing you all speak about your family accomplishments is so...what's the word? Trivial" He ignored the hostile gazes being sent his way from his fellow first-years, "No offense, of course, but that was **their** accomplishments, not yours. Seems to me that all of you just piggyback off it"

"Because it helps with influence within the house" stressed Greengrass, "You'll find that in this house, you have to have a reputation to be considered someone of value. What about you, Potter? What about your family? And if you don't mind me being blunt - how in Merlin's beard are you alive when you should've been dead for the last three years?!"

Yikes! Greengrass wasn't holding anything back! Malfoy can respect that.

"Well..." Potter looked uneasy as the rest of the first-years leaned in to get a closer listen. Goyle and Crabbe ditched their treacle tarts while Malfoy noticed that a good number of the senior year students from Slytherin and other houses alike, also listened in, "I didn't exactly die-"

Before Potter could say anymore, all the food on the table vanished. A sign that the Feast was over and that Dumbledore was about to do his annual speech. The Hall fell silent as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again.

"Ahem- just a few more words before we retire for the night. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should not that the forests in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in the direction of the Weasley twins. Malfoy sneered.

"I have also been asked by our resident caretaker, Mr. Filch, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridor. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Keep in mind that trials are only open for those of second-year and above. Anyone interested in playing for their houses teams should contact Madam Hooch" Then for a moment, Malfoy noticed Dumbledore adopt a more serious expression, "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death"

Potter laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore, returning to his joyous mood. Malfoy noticed that the other teachers' smile had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flicker and a long golden ribbon flew out of the tip, which rose high into the sky and coiled like a snake until it formed words.

"Everyone, pick your favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "And off we go!"

Malfoy sang as quietly as he could, trying to eliminate the shame from himself. The same could not be said for Crabbe, who was bouncing up and down as if he was on a spring while singing in a booming voice.

 _"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

 _Teach us something please,_

 _Whether we be old and bald_

 _Or young with scabby knees,_

 _Our heads could do with filling_

 _With some interesting stuff,_

 _For now they're bare and full of air,_

 _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

 _So teach us things worth knowing,_

 _Bring back what we've forgot,_

 _Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

 _And learn until our brains all rot."_

The majority of the Slytherin table finished early, followed by Ravenclaw, Hufflepuffs, and then the Gryffindorks. The last to finish was the infuriating Weasley twins, singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest. Malfoy rolled his eyes at the blatant display of favoritism.

"Ah, music," he said tearfully, wiping the tears from his eyes, "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you go, chop-chop!"

* * *

Seeing as how the rest of his fellow Slytherins hadn't moved from their seats, Harry emulated their actions and remained in his seat, despite movement from the other tables. It was then that two senior students with silver badges on the front of their robes walked over to the group of silent first-years.

"Stand up!" barked the male student with faded brown hair. Harry stood to attention quickly, while the rest of his housemates stumbled to their feet to stand in line with him, "You there! Tuck in that shirt. You! Take that stupid thing off your head!"

Goyle fumbled to shove his untucked shirt into his pants, Tracy scowled and took her beanie off, revealing locks of mocha-colored hair that cascaded down her back. The male senior student ignored them both, continuing his inspection of the first-years.

"My name is Corban Yassi" explained the boy with authority in his voice, "Prefect for Slytherin house. My...lovely companion...next to me is also a prefect for Slytherin house. You are to treat her with respect at all times! Do I make myself clear?!"

"Gemma Farley," said the black-haired girl next to Yassi pleasantly. There was a noticeable blush on her face, "There are four prefects in total for each house, as well as a Head Boy and Head Girl. You'll be introduced to them shortly as well as our Head of House. Until then, let me be the first to welcome each and every one of you to the prestigious house of Slytherin"

 _ **"Oh, I like her"**_ Harry did as well. She was a lot more pleasant than her male companion, who prowled between them like a guard dog.

"Acceptable," said Yassi after a while. Harry swore he saw Yassi give him and Vespa the stink-eye, but other that, didn't say anything else as he pulled his wand out. Farley followed suit. The two of them went down the line, Farley for the girls and Yassi for the males, tapping their robes as they went along. Harry watched in amazement as his tie, once bland grey, became dark green with silver stripes. The badge on his chest, before the school chest, also became the crest for the house of Slytherin.

"Follow me! Single file and don't fall behind!" Harry followed behind Zabini as the procession of first-years left the Hall last. The rest of the house had walked off ahead of them, so they were the last group to leave the Great Hall. They left the massive doors and entered the corridor, before walking down a flight of marble staircases.

"Memorise the patterns in the stairs" called out Yassi, ahead of them, "These stairs like to move around of their own volition"

His words rang true when there was a loud rumbling noise above them. Harry craned his head to look up and saw one of the flights of stairs move into a platform that had previously not been connected to anything. This left a group of the Gryffindors stuck on the platform.

The group continued down the marble staircases, deeper and deeper into the confines of the castle. There was a noticeable drop in temperature around them and the only heat and light sources were the torches lined on the stone walls. Vespa began to shiver on his shoulders, so he took her down and carried her in his arms.

Eventually, the group reached a bare stone wall.

" _Pedigree,"_ said Yassi, seemingly to no one in particular. To Harry's surprise, the stone wall twisted and reformed itself, much like the brick wall in Diagon Alley. Behind the wall, was a door, which Yassi swung open to let them walk in.

"Welcome to Slytherin common room," said Farley gently. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps hung from chains, bathing the room in a greenish tinge. This was not helped by the windows, which only added to the green aura by bringing in shades of black from the outside.

That's not to say that there weren't any lights, as a fire crackled in an elaborately carved mantlepiece in front of them. Sitting around this fire, on couches and armchairs of different shades of green, was the rest of the Slytherin student body. There wasn't much chatter, mostly silence, as the first-years were herded to the center of the room.

"That there is Prefect Lyanne Wreath" Yassi motioned to a girl with caramel curls sitting smugly in an armchair, "And that there is Prefect Quintin Buckler. Head Boy Victor Stone. And Head Girl Winona Thyme"

The thin and pale Quintin, broad-chested and mountainous Victor and regal-looking Winona nodded their heads respectively. Harry noticed that not a single one of them raised a voice after that. In fact, they were holding their tongues, as if in anticipation for something to happen.

Harry didn't need to activate his demon senses to see him coming, the billowing robes could be both seen and heard as the man descended from the stairs. He was a tall individual, towering over all of them, and dressed in macabre black robes that gave him the appearance of a vampire. This was also added with the fact that he had very pale skin, shoulder lengthed greasy black hair and a large hooked nose.

"Thank you, Yassi. I shall take it from here" said the man quietly. His black eyes skimmed over the group of first-years judgingly. Harry noticed that for the briefest of moments, they lingered on Harry slightly longer than need be. "My name is Professor Snape, you shall address me as either Professor Snape or sir, your Head of House for the prestigious house of snakes, Slytherin"

He slowly walked around them, obviously making a show of superiority. "Our house prides itself on our superiority above the rest of the other houses, and rightly so. Whilst the common _rabble_ of the other houses engage in meaningless talks of chivalry, wisdom, and loyalty, we Slytherins are more aware of the true value at hand. _Success._ Life is, but a chess game and someone will always not win. This house will ensure that you shall find success once you finish your time here at Hogwarts" Harry could feel the endorsement coming from his fellow first-years, "Make no mistake, every single one of you are privileged to find yourself sorted into this house, so you shall do well to ensure that you remain up to the standards set by the house. Forgo your previous alliances with anyone outside of our house. The only friends you shall need are your fellow vipers. Rollcall is to be conducted at 7:30 am every morning, with curfew at no later than 11:00 pm at night. Breakfast, lunch, and supper shall always be eaten together, never alone, for a single viper is not a predator, but a prey to the lion, eagle, and badger"

"Finally, and most importantly, there shall be no ill-conduct from any of you" He seemed to direct that statement at a few senior students sitting at the back, "Slytherin holds itself to a much higher standard than the rest of the Hogwart houses. There shall be no nonwhimsical wand-waving and nonsense like baboons - sorry, Gryffindors." He smiled forcibly as a few boys chuckled to his statement, "The loss of house points in kind is unacceptable. If you lose house points than you shall receive detention with me. Continual loss of points will label you as a pariah in this house, something I assure you, you do not want to happen to you"

"Now, Stone?" Snape gestured to the mountainous Stone who stepped forwards and clearly his throats.

"Alright, now listen up!" said Stone, "There are two quarters, boys and girls. Boys dormitory are to my right, the girl's dormitory is to my left. Do not attempt to sneak into one another's quarters as the doors are enchanted to not open to you no matter how much you try to force them open. As you proceed into your designated dormitories, you shall find the doors labeled with numbers, they are evocative of your year group. Again, do not try to force yourself into another year's quarters cause the doors will not open to you"

Harry nodded as Stone explained the concept. As he seemingly finished his explanation, Harry stepped forward to enter the male's dormitory, quite eager for some sleep. It was then, that he noticed he was the only one walking across the room.

He stopped. There was a rustling sound behind him. Harry slowly turned around to see a majority of the house members had withdrawn their wands and were now pointing them at him. From third-years up to seventh-years, wands of every length and wood were pointed in his direction. Yassi, Farley, Buckler, Stone, even Snape had their wands pointed at him. Harry noticed that Wreath and Thyme had their wands out and were holding the second-years and Harry's fellow first-years back.

"That is quite enough, imposter," said Snape dangerously, his black wand glistening underneath the pale lighting of the green chandeliers, "I do not know how or why you managed to infiltrate Hogwarts, but that is as far was your ploy goes. Whether you are just plain stupid or brave enough to use the guise of Harry Potter to sneak into this castle, I do not know, but I will not allow you to hurt anyone here. Show us your true self this instance!"

So they caught on. Hah...he should have known that this would happen eventually. It's a shame that he wasn't able to formulate a plan during dinner.

 _ **"I can take them if you want,"**_ said Vespa into his ear, _**"What do you think?"**_

 _"Not possible. There's too many of them...thirty-five wands are pointed our way, and that's not taking in account the prefects and the Head of House"_ replied Harry, assessing the situation. He internally sighed. " _Guess there's no point trying to hide it anymore. Might as well come clean now, then later"_

 ** _"Be careful!"_**

 _"I know...we may be demons, but that doesn't mean the spells won't affect us in some way or another."_

"Let me be the first to-" Harry never so to finish his sentence as a streak of silver erupted from Snape's wand and grazed his cheek. The heat from the spell was still felt by Harry longer after the spell collided with the stone wall behind him.

"Did I not make myself clear? Tell us right now! Who are you?!" snarled Snape. The students surrounding him grew even tenser.

Harry huffed. "Fine...I'll show you" With that he removed his ring, allowing the familiar warmth to envelop his body. When the fires died down, the reactions he received were as expected.

There were shrieks. There were shouts. There screams. There were even a few wands that moved, partially in the process of conducting a spell until the spellcasters were halted by their peers. All around Harry and Vespa, the two of them watched as Slytherin's house devolved into a screaming mess. Junior students shuddered with fear as they looked at him, while older students questioned one another to the spectacle that they just witnessed. Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl did little to calm them down, as they too were shocked at what they saw.

There was a loud bang. Everyone fell silent as Snape stepped forward, his eyes hardened and his wand emulating smoke from the firecracker charm he just conjured.

"SILENCE!" And there was silence. Snape rounded onto Harry, who watched with curiosity as Snape looked at him tensely. Their staring match went on for quite a while until Snape finally broke the silence.

"What...in all the names of great witches and wizards before us...are you?" Snape didn't ask, so much as he demanded an answer to that question. Harry had to admit he was taking it very well compared to the rest of the house. Then again, in situations like this, it was best for the leader to stay calm as to not evoke panic within the larger crowd.

"I am the same person that Professor McGonagall read off the list. I am, Harry Potter" replied Harry calmly.

"Bullshit!" This came not from Snape, but Stone. Attention was directed towards the older Head Boy who stared at Harry defiantly, "That's not possible! Potter's been dead for the last three years!"

"And yet, here I am, after three long years here I am again. In the flesh" Harry gestured to himself, "So what does that mean? Simple. I'm not dead. But then again, I'm not exactly alive, so that's a bit of a problem"

"Look," said Harry before anyone could have a chance to speak up, "I get it that many of you are confused at the turn of events. But it is getting late and I would like to at least get the minimum amount of sleep required for someone of my age. I'll let you ask three questions" He raised up three fingers to further emphasize his point.

There was silence in the air. Many of the Slytherins didn't speak but instead just gave him disbelieving looks.

Eventually, the silence was broken.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" squeaked a small girl, most likely a second-year.

"Haah...that is a hard question to answer. I easily answered 'yes', but let's be honest, who here would actually believe me?" Harry shrugged his shoulders, "Heck I wouldn't even believe myself. So I'll fire this one back at you, what can I give to you that will prove that I am truly Harry Potter?"

There was some hesitation there.

"Show us the scar," said Nott, "Show us where the Dark Lord touched you"

 _Scar? What does his scar have to do with anything?_

"Alright, very well then" Guess there was no harm in showing them. Harry lifted up his hair and showed to them the lightning bolt scar that adorned his forehead, "Is this enough?"

"It's him," said Snape simply after a minute of tense gawking from the Slytherin. Everyone turned to Snape who was looking at Harry with pursed lips as if he was sucking on a particularly sour lemon, "That is Potter's child alright. My turn, what did you mean why you said you weren't dead but at the same time not exactly alive?"

Man, these were rather hard questions they were pressing him with. Not that he wasn't sympathetic, considering their situation.

"I meant it as I said" answered Harry, noticing the confusion gracing the faces of his fellow Slytherins, "Perhaps I should explain this to you better. Three years ago, I threw myself off the roof of that... _dreaded_ school, that much is true. I was successful in carrying out the act. But at the same time, I failed to properly die. So for the last three years, I stayed floating between the planes of the living and the dead"

"Like a ghost?"

"Don't be stupid Quintin! Does he look transparent to you?" Wreath reprimanded her fellow prefect. He noticed that the girl was looking at him with an enormous degree of interest, "That being said, if you are not a ghost, then what are you?"

 _ **"Bimbo"**_

 _"Oh shut it"_

"Technically this counts as four questions, but I'll bite if this means this will be the last question for the night," said Harry to the group of Slytherins, "What I am, and what my pet is,...is an interesting conundrum. But I believe that the revelation of such information only serves to be detrimental to the current situation. How about this? You, try to figure out what I and my pet are at the end of the year. Get it wrong and you lost nothing. Get it right and I will reveal to you, the secrets of this world, and the one beyond it"

The growing excitement from his fellow Slytherins palpable. He could feel it. They were slowly being roped in by their curiosity.

"That being said, I can't have myself running around the school in my native form, nor any of you babbling about me to the other houses" He slipped on his ring and fire once more shrouded over his demon body. He then snapped his fingers as the Slytherins shot him confused looks, "You all have been cursed with my gift. If you look at your hands, there should be a rune circle there. These runes cannot be broken or overruled in any way. Don't worry, these won't harm you" added Harry as alarmed looks graced the faces of his house-mates, "Well...maybe they'll harm you. A lot. But only if you start gossiping to the other houses. So watch what you say" he said that last part in the most foreboding tone he could do. It worked, as no one raised a voice after that.

Seeing that as his queue to leave, Harry replicated the same action he did at the Great Hall, bowed to the mass of Slytherins watching him. Looking into their eyes, there was a noticeable trace of lingering fear, but amongst that apparent fear, there was also curiosity, suspicion, amazement, and intrigue. His eyes fell on Professor Snape, who returned his nonchalant gaze with serious and hardened eyes.

Harry smiled and tilted his head.

For some reason that seemed to set Snape off.

"Wait-!" Before Snape could finish his words, Harry slammed the doors leading to the dormitories behind him.

"So..." Harry sighed as Vespa clambered from his shoulder and landed onto his palm, "How'd I do?"

 _ **"Smooth. Real smooth Harry,"** _replied Vespa sarcastically. Harry smiled bitterly.

"C'mon, let's go to bed. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow"

* * *

Smudgley shook his head as he tossed the file behind him. No. That will just not do.

He propped his feet onto the expensive wood of his office table, sighing as the smoke from the cigar he smoked made it's way up to the noticeable cloud already at the top of his office.

In front of him were three more folders, each draft article made by his reporters, now just needing his approval to be placed onto the front page of tomorrow's edition of the _Daily Prophet._ The subject in the folders all wrote about the same thing, but with radically different titles.

 _Dumbledore: The Man-Who-Lied?_ by Walter Yarra.

 _Dumbledore's Debacle: Why This Latest Stunt Demonstrates Insanity_ by Tommen Little.

 _Dumbledore: Daft or Dangerous?_ by Rita Skeeter.

He won't lie, he was almost tempted to go with Skeeter's article after a day of getting no results from the train station. Little's was too long and Yarra's was a direct play on the Boy-Who-Lived. The people would like to see something interesting when they open up the newspaper in the morning, after all.

It can be said that life has been good for Smudgley. Ever since he decided to do research on Muggle newspapers and take some pointers, he found that the popularity of newspapers was quickly soaring within the younger generations. Who knew this, _'comics'_ idea was so popular?! Especially his political comics!

Sure, he might have gotten some complaints from parents, but what did that matter when he was finally promoted to fricking editor-in-chief!

Ha! Take that Billy Comte! Bet he's regretting shoving this nerd's head into the toilet now!

Smudgley's happy moment was cut short when the doors to his office slammed open. His secretary, a female witch stood at the door, panting in exhaustion.

"What's going on?" asked Smudgley, alarmed.

"*Huff* Hog...*Huff*...warts...Potter...*Huff*...alive"

 _What?_

"What?" Smudgley's cigar fell from his mouth, staining the carpet with ash and soot.

 **Author's notes: Happy New Year!**


End file.
